


Dear Dean,

by smolandgrumpy



Series: Dear Dean Universe [1]
Category: Supernatural
Genre: Angst, Confused Dean Winchester, Eventual Smut, F/M, Feelings, Fluff, Language, Lieutenant Dean Winchester, Love, Masturbation, Mild Gore, Minor Character Death, Mutual Masturbation, Semi-Public Sex, Slow Burn, Smut, Vaginal Sex, WWII, WWII AU, War AU, sex in times of war, so slow, sorry for that, unprotected sex
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-04-04
Updated: 2019-12-25
Packaged: 2020-01-04 17:18:29
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 18
Words: 72,237
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18348179
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/smolandgrumpy/pseuds/smolandgrumpy
Summary: After taking Saint Lo, by sheer dumb luck, Lieutenant Dean Winchester from the 29th Infantry Division, Baker Company, received a truckload of replacements for his platoon that was falling apart. Little did he know, that one recruit would change his life forever.





	1. Chapter 1

**July 18th, 1944**

The sound of boots on dirt roads is all that Lieutenant Dean Winchester can hear. The sun was burning bright, the air was warm, dewy tinted with salt from the sea. That morning Dean felt good. Maybe for the first time in days, things didn’t seem so extreme, so dire. And maybe it was weird that the rhythmic sound of boots calmed his heart. 

_Right, left, right, left, right, left._

Laughter echoed behind him in formation as one of his men rattle off a joke. The sound was quiet, like a whisper. He didn’t listen.

Dean squinted into the sun and then he heard one of his men break formation and jog ahead of him. “Lieutenant Winchester, I’ve got a joke for you.” Private Milligan walked backwards, breaking into a lazy jog. He was out of step and the rhythm of the company was not right anymore.  

“Milligan, get back in line!” Dean ordered, his jaw tight. 

The kid was no older than nineteen, a kid by all standards. He was younger than Dean’s younger brother, so somehow he looked like a little boy in his oversized helmet, with his rifle slung over his shoulder. “Come on, Lieutenant! Just one joke. Just one smile, not everything has to be so goddamn serious all the time.” 

Deans eyebrows furrowed, meeting in the middle of his already wrinkled forehead. It was a good day and they were hopeful and Dean’d be damned if he tipped that hope away from this kid. “Fine, but it better be damned good, Milligan.” 

“You got it, Sir.” Private Milligan grinned wide.

_Right, left, right, left, right, left._

“So, a soldier walks into this club in a city in the outskirts of France, and there’s a girl, right? Pretty little thing. She comes up to this soldier. Saunters over, and he’s thinking… Hell, I’ve never seen hips like those.”

There are moments when time slows down. The first snow fall on a cold morning in Lawrence, a shared look with a pretty girl across a crowded bar, the smile on Sam’s face when Dean made a dumb joke. Those moments were nothing like this one. 

_Right, left, right, left, right, left._

Private Milligan jogged backwards ahead of the whole platoon and he gestures wildly with his arms, as if he’s telling the joke on a freaking stage and they were his audience. His teeth fully exposed and shining in the bright morning sunlight. He was still smiling when his back foot landed on the mine buried under the dirt. It was small, and rudimentary. It didn’t appear to be military grade, but yet… 

Dean saw it before he heard it. Milligan’s foot landed with a soft thud on the dirt road. It was like he landed on a geyser, dirt and rock spraying up around him. It was almost spectacular, the wave of dirt swirled around him, reminding Dean of the tornado that almost took their house when he was eight. 

Something hit his chest, hard, knocking him off his feet. On the fall he watched the crystal clear blue sky, littered with flying dirt like a Summer rain falling around him. If he closed his eyes, he could almost feel like he was at home again, with Sam. He felt something wet and warm on his face. His eyes fluttered open. It wasn’t rain that rolled down his cheek, it was deep red and sticky, like his mother’s cherry pie filling. 

 

Dean pulled himself to his feet, forcing himself forward. There was a ringing in his ears, distinct and sharp, from his closeness to the blast. His eyes scanned his surroundings, looking for the kid. The kid he let out of step. The kid who just wanted to make him laugh.

“Goddammit! Cover! Cover! Everyone off the road! Off the road! Go go go!” He screamed himself hoarse because he couldn’t hear his own voice. He wanted to call out for a medic but then he realized that there wasn’t even enough of Milligan left to save.

Dean crouched down in the dirt and noticed the lone boot. It was Milligans.  _Shit!_ The kid was his responsibility, and now all he had was a spare foot in a fucking boot to send home to his family. The folded flag wouldn’t be enough to explain that he wasn’t coming home. He wasn’t coming home because he wanted to make his Lieutenant laugh. He wasn’t coming home because his Lieutenant was too distracted to realize that there was no laughter in war. There was no hope. 

 

***

 

 **July 21st, 1944**  

Dean knocked at the door of the makeshift office of his CO before he straightened up and calling out, “Winchester, permission to enter, Sir.”

“Permission granted.” The voice of Captain Mills was rough and maybe a little hoarse. No wonder, there were lots of shouting going on before they finally managed to take over Saint Lo and liberated the city of Germans. If it weren’t for the whiskey Dean had stashed away, he was sure he’d sound about the same.

The battle was a hard one. They were cut off from the other companies for a whole fucking day and the Germans moved in on them. Well, technically Dean’s company moved in through the front line of the Germans defense without them even knowing it. He didn’t know how it could happen, but he hoped that it wouldn’t happen again. It helped that a company of the 3rd Battalion did manage to break through to Able company. They were able to supply the trapped soldiers with food, but unfortunately, they were still low on ammunition, but at least moral did take a leap there - up until the tanks came toward them. They worked with the ammunition they still had on them and fluked their way out of the misery. 

 

Dean had lost a third of his platoon and half of the men who are left, were wounded. A couple of them would be able to return, but the rest would get an express ticket back to England. He was surprised that he was still standing after it all. Maybe someone up there really, really liked him. He couldn’t lie, he had some close encounters with death. Especially the grenade that was thrown to his feet but, by some dumb luck, never exploded. Dean already saw his life passing him by in the back of his mind and, strangely, the only thing he hoped for was that there would be enough of him left to put in the ground. And, of course, he thought about Sam. How Sam was doing. He was out there somewhere, too, even though Dean never knew where. Sam was with the 3rd Battalion and they wrote to each other when they could. He hoped, above anything else, that Sam was doing alright.

 

The heavy door creaked open, ripping Dean back to the present, and he stepped in, whirling up dusts of sand. Captain Mills hunched over reports of the other platoons at his makeshift desk, that consists of old tires and a wooden plank, when he looks up to Dean. “Lieutenant, please, tell me you have good news.” The look on his face was hopeful and Dean almost felt bad that he won’t be able to live up to the expectations of his CO. Dean liked Captain Mills, the man did a good job. He didn’t want to disappoint him, but in war, he was learning, disappointment was the name of the game.

Dean strolled toward the table. He wished that he could cheer the Captain up. He forced a charming smile, it was the best he could do. “Sorry to burst your bubble, sir.”

“Ah, shit.” Captain Mills exhaled and rubbed at his eyes with his fingers that were smeared with dried blood and coated in dirt. He left a streak on his cheek. Dean wanted to point it out, but decided against it.

 

“Sir, we need replacements. I have less than half of my men left standing, and our sharpshooter is out.” Dean dropped the piece of paper onto Captain Mills’ table. Lord knows that he could use some technicians as well, but he also knew that at that point, he could consider himself lucky if he got privates who knew their elbows from their assholes. Word was that Basic was cut short, because they were losing too many men.

“Yeah, doesn’t look any better for Novak, Balthazar and Gabriel’s platoons either. You get what you get, Lieutenant.” Captain Mills clutched Dean’s report in his fingers and looked up to him with tired eyes.

Dean knew that. He got what he got, and he would be lucky if he got anything at all in that goddamn place.

“Thanks, Winchester.” Captain Mills said again, standing from his chair. He walked around the table to put a hand on Dean’s shoulder. “You’re my 2IC, do you think you’ll be ready?”

Dean wet his lips. They felt too dry all of a sudden. He frowned as he looked at his Captain, wondering whether the question was a joke. “Come on, you don’t mean that, Sir.”

“I actually don’t, but I think that my luck’s going to run out soon, Lieutenant.” Captain Mills said with a heavy sigh. He looked exhausted, heavy bags drooping under his eyes, despite him being only 31.

“You wanted Hitler’s head on a stick, Sir, and I expect you do hold it up for us.” Dean tried to make him smile, and it worked.

Captain Mills shook his head, a small grin spreading on his face. “Oh, the faith you have in me, Winchester.”

Dean shrugged with an easy smile on his lips, before Mills said that he’s dismissed.

Dean stepped out into the hot day and walked back to the building where the Baker company were staying until they could move out again. Move forward. There was always a new battle. A new city to liberate. A new stronghold to assault. New casualties, new deaths. His trigger finger twitched at his side, as he focused on the steady one two pace of his boots on the dirt. 

He didn’t want to admit to Captain Mills that he was scared to lead. Leading a platoon was one thing, but leading the whole Baker Company was a whole different animal. Dean couldn’t care less about paperwork, and he didn’t know why Mills didn’t appoint Cas to be his 2IC. Cas would be a fabulous leader. He was fearless and he loved what he did. Dean was only good in following orders and cheering people up. Although, he could be a pain in the ass too, especially to new recruits, but that’s a whole other story. He guessed that there was only one way to his heart and to earn his trust and they’d have to work hard to get there.

At that moment, Dean tried not to think about it. Mills would lead them to Germany and Dean would try to keep himself and Mills alive plus all the other men whose life had been trusted to him. Dean shook the thought of Mills out of his head, because, right then, he wanted to think about the roof over his head. Wanted to think about the hot meal that he’d be getting tonight. He’d been out there for so long, he didn’t even know how real food tasted anymore and his mouth started to water just thinking of it. It was the little things, like Winchester Surprise and letters from Sammy that got him through the day. That helped him suffer through the bland rations and blistering Summer sun.

**January, 1940**  

Jamie Blum lived alone with her three brothers in the rural town of Trenton in North Carolina. Life had never treated them well, but the four of them learned how to get by, if only by each other.

Their mother died when she gave birth to the twins, Jamie and her brother Jameson. Their father was an alcoholic, always had been from the way her brothers talked, and they were probably right. She didn’t need to be a genius to notice the alcohol influence in their names. Jim, Jack, Jameson, and Jamie. Well, their father named her Jamie, because he couldn’t be bothered to search for a girls name for her.

Their father slipped into depression after the death of his wife. Her oldest brother, Jim, found him in the garage one day, and told the others not to come in because there was not a lot left of their father’s face to be recognized. The day their father ate the bullet was the beginning of the end for the Blum children.

Jim and Jack dropped out of school straight after, taking on two to three jobs to keep the house and the twins in school. They insisted school was the only job for Jamie and Jameson. Do good at school, make them proud. Make Mom proud.

A year before the twins finished High School, they came home to a stuffed duffle bag next to Jim’s feet. “I enlisted.” He muttered, avoiding the eyes of his siblings.

Jamie would never forget holding him tight and crying into his chest. She tried everything to stop him. She insisted that she’d be able to help when she finished school. That he didn’t  _have_ to do it. It wasn’t the only way. “It’s only one year longer, Jim, please!”  

Jim was having none of it. He held her face in his big hands, and looked her directly in the eye. He told her to keep on studying. His voice shook and it took everything in him to keep his hands steady as he swung his duffle over his broad shoulder. He prayed that his siblings would have better lives than he ever did. He wanted them to at least have a shot at it.

He left that evening, traveling cross country to get to the training camp. He promised to send his wages. It’d be more than he could earn there, he said before adding, that he calculated the numbers in his head, and if his figures were right, they could keep the house for a couple of years.

Jamie didn’t want to interrupt, even though it hurt, she didn’t want to say that there was no worth in keeping a house that he wouldn’t be coming home to. There was no sense in living in an empty box, but she didn’t say anything. Instead she wept into his chest. She had a gut wrenching feeling that she would never see him again, so she held on tight, her fingers curled in his shirt for as long as he’d let her hold on.

 

***

 

**August, 1940**

Jack had been antsy after Jim left. Even though Jim thought his leaving would relieve some of the pressure, it just continued to build inside of the second oldest Blum sibling. Jack was the head of the house. He had the role of father, mother, and eldest brother. So, when he heard the news about the upcoming draft, he decided that he wasn’t going to wait for it. It was the honorable thing to do, for country, and for his family. It was during the summer break from school when Jack, too, left Jamie and Jameson.

Jack, too, said that he’d send his wages home, and Jamie wondered that what the point of it all was? What was the point of having extra money when there was no one to hold her when she felt weak? When there was only half of her family left to return to after a long day? Who would Jameson look up to with both of her older brothers gone? She didn’t say all of the things that made her head spin, though. Instead she held tight to Jack and cried.

She never felt like much of a crier, but with every brother that walked out the door, with a duffle bag over his shoulder, another piece of her chipped away. She was dust in the wind, every blow sending away another piece of her. The pieces were so far away she couldn’t grab them in her hands, and she watched as they slipped through her fingers.

Her brother released her grip, and without second glance, Jack walked to the bus stop with his bag heavy on his shoulders.

 

***

 

**September, 1940**

Jamie and her brother were only 19 when Jameson decided that he, too, wanted to register for the draft. They sat at the kitchen table, across from each other, about to eat a meal that Jamie had worked on for the last hour. She tried all she could for any sense of normalcy since her oldest brothers left.

Although the twins were only a breath apart, they felt like miles when Jameson met her eyes, identical to his own. “I can’t stay here, Jamie.” Jamesons voice was low, barely a whisper. He picked at his food, absentmindedly, and all Jamie could think was,  _does he not like it_? It felt stupid, but she was in shock. He swallowed down the lump that built up in his throat, and it was as if Jamie could feel it too. She swallowed.  

She didn’t feel hungry anymore, and she stared at her brother, watching as his eyes well up. She tried to stab her fork into her dinner, but her vision was blurry and she didn’t even know if she managed to put something on it. She wanted to eat. Food was scarce, and they always finished their plates, no matter what. She tried to think about her empty stomach and that she needed food to survive, but couldn’t. Not while she felt like someone was clutching her insides in their hand. Not while they were squeezing hard. 

“If you go, I go.” She thought she was talking to herself, but the words came out louder than she wanted them to, and she was sure that Jameson heard them, too.

Jameson frowned at her, knotting his eyebrows in the center of his forehead. “Jamie, you’re a girl.”

It was out and she couldn’t take it back, so she just looks at Jameson as she felt a teardrop running down her cheek. “And?”

“Girls can’t fight. Come on, Jamie.” At least his face lit up a bit at the thought.

Jamie took a fork full of mashed potatoes and proceeded to talk. “I’m sorry, have you met me?” The tears are still running down their cheeks, but there was also something else in the air. She wouldn’t say hope. That was too strong a word. They kept talking. Talking to forget the imminent.

“Well, I know you can, in theory, Jamie… but–” Jameson took a break to fork half of a sausage into his awaiting mouth, but Jamie cut him off.

“Come on James, we’re twins. Jamie is a boys name, too. You can register for me.” Her voice rattled off, her fork shaking in her fingers. “Go in on different days. I don’t want to stay here and wait on news of my brothers!”

Of course Jameson could never deny Jamie anything. She knew the way around her brothers, and could always sweet talk them into anything. Her stubbornness, paired with doe eyes could be a deadly combination to men. She knew that much.

So she batted her eyelashes, and poked out her bottom lip like she did when they were children. Jameson was her other half. She loved the other boys, but they didn’t give her peace like Jameson did. As babies, nothing could calm them down like each other. She couldn’t live in the house without him. She wouldn’t.

“And who knows, maybe I won’t get drafted at all? Maybe we both won’t?” She tried to ease the tension. She tried to believe her own words, too.

Her thoughts ran wild with the idea. She could see herself, next to Jameson in matching uniforms, truly looking like twins. No one would miss them in Trenton. The money for their house went to their aunt. She moved when their mom died, and since the house belonged to her parents, she was paying rent for them. Unless their aunt made a trip down from Detroit, no one would notice they were missing. Jamie thought that it was highly unlikely that she’d pop in for a visit. The Blum children hadn’t seen their aunt in more than 10 years.

Jameson didn’t say he wouldn’t enlist, and he didn’t say he wouldn’t add her name to the drawing, but they didn’t speak about it anymore that chilly fall evening. Their faces fell back to their potatoes, and they ate in silence.

 

***

 

**January, 1944**

Jamie came back from her evening class, to find Jameson waiting for her. He should have been at his job. She rushed home so she could surprise him with dinner. He surprised her instead.

She unlocked the front door, to find him sitting at the dinner table, a crumbled letter in his hand. Jamie didn’t notice that she was holding her breath, until Jameson started to talk. She didn’t want to listen. She knew the signs. All of a sudden, there was a pain in her stomach again, and she braced herself against the heavy armchair, her nails digging into its fabric, holding herself steady.

Jameson took a deep breath before he exhaled loudly, followed by a sniff as he brushed at his wet cheeks. “It’s time, Jamie. I’m going in.”

He stood up, and pulled his duffle out from under the kitchen table. He’d packed it when she was at school. Her head spun and there was a strange feeling in her gut that almost tore her apart.

Jameson left that evening, taking a piece of Jamie with him. She didn’t hug him. She didn’t cry. She didn’t beg him to stay. She watched him toss his duffle over his shoulder and walk out the front door. She watched the last piece of herself get picked up in the wind and taken away, and for the first time in her life, Jamie was all alone.

The house was too big for one person, and Jamie found herself curled in Jameson’s bed, wearing his shirts. She couldn’t focus on school, and spent a lot of time looking out the window, wondering if her brothers were safe. She wondered if there’d ever be a time when someone wouldn’t walk out on her. She wondered if she’d ever feel whole again.

**July 22nd, 1944**  

The new replacements arrived in a line of blurred green and khaki. They all were faceless, standing at attention. Dean was already feeling tired just looking at them. He got 10 new privates. 10 new fucking rookies that probably didn’t even complete a week in Basic because the men were dropping like flies at Omaha and Saint Lo. 10 greenhorns who probably didn’t know how to secure a rifle, let alone use one, and he knew it was up to him to gather up all his patience to teach them. 

Dean looked over the new privates, some of them probably not even 18. He would never understand why someone would lie to get into the army. Why would anyone do that? It wasn’t exactly a day at the beach. His gaze trailed along their faces, and Dean knew how they felt.

He saw that some of them were scared. They were frightened and shaking in their boots. Some stared at him, their eyes blank, emotionless. Those were the worst. It could mean that they had already given up, and they weren’t even in the shit yet. Dean could tell that the majority of them weren’t there because they want to be. Well, technically, he wasn’t there because he wanted to be either, so.

He eyed them up, one by one until his gaze rested on a short recruit. The guy’s shorter than the others. Dean came to rest before him. The private stared up at Dean with big brown eyes. They were really big, doe like. Just like Bambi, he thought. He saw the movie in a special showing at camp in 1942. Why they showed a Disney flick to a group of soldiers was beyond him, but he had to admit that he teared up a bit when the mom was shot. The privates lips were pressed together tight into a straight line, as if he was holding in a laugh. Dean could see the cheeks puffing up. Dean could’ve shouted at him, asking him what’s so fucking funny about going to war, but he was too tired for that shit so he let it slide. Instead he asked a different question, “What your name, private?”

“Blum, sir.”


	2. Chapter 2

**22nd July, 1944  
**

Letters from home arrived early in the morning and everyone tore them open, reading them out loud while they were sitting at breakfast and weirdly enough, Dean got a letter too. He thought first that it was Sam’s but no, it was from home. Dean ripped it open, not minding that he tore out a little of the letter as well. He was clumsy with his fingers lately, having trouble to keep them from trembling in the most inconvenient of times.

 

_Dear Dean,_

_I hope this letter reaches you well, like all the other letters I’ve sent you before. I wish that you would write back, but I understand that time must be a real big issue. I miss you and wanted to say that I’m immensely proud of what you’re doing. I hope Sam’s doing great, too. I thought that I should send you a photograph I found while I cleared out my mom’s attic. Remember how you, Sam and me snuck out to go to the fair? This is the picture of then. That night you kissed me. It was my first kiss, too. I miss you guys so much. My mom’s still taking care of your home. Growing flowers and tending to the porch. She too, believes that the both of you will come back. You were always more than the neighbor boy to me. You were more than a brother or a friend. Dean, I love you, and I still do. Come back in one piece, alright? **  
**_

_Love Always,_

_Anna Milton_

 

Dean threw away the letter pretty soon after he read it. He wouldn’t reply, like the others that he left on a trail from Omaha to here. Dean knew that if he would write back and tell her that he’d never saw anything else than a friend in her, he’d break her heart and sometimes, if you have nothing nice to say in a letter, you shouldn’t be writing one at all. However he kept the photograph. It was a picture of he, Sam, and Anna in the middle. All of them smiling. All of them still hopeful. He folded it and tucked it into his helmet. Now he had picture in there, too.

**June, 1944**  

Just when it felt like it was all too much, like the loneliness would swallow her whole, Jamie received a letter in the mail addressed to Mr. Jamie Blum. She eagerly ripped through the envelope, not caring about the paper cuts that easily sliced through the skin on her fingers. She held the paper in her hands, small droplets of blood sprinkling the words on the page. **  
**

_Greeting:_

_Having submitted yourself to a local board composed of your neighbors for the purpose of determining your availability for training and service in the armed forces of the United States, you are hereby notified that you have been selected for training and service in the Army. You will, therefore, report…._

She’d been drafted. Jameson put her name in after all.

Jamie stared at the white paper, and the words began to melt together. She didn’t know if she should cry, or rejoice. So, instead, she walked up the stairs, and into the bathroom. She pulled out her brothers razor blade. Jamie stared at her reflection, her eyes were hollow, and her cheek bones protrudes from lack of sleep. She closed her eyes, and when she opened them she ran the blade across her scalp, in one fluid motion, wincing at the tug of protest that her long hair gave. It fell to the ground like new fallen snow, lackadaisical, and languid. It danced past her empty eyes and collected at her bare feet on the bathroom floor. **  
**

She ducked her naked head under the sink, letting the cool water run over her irritated scalp. Jamie was going to do this and nothing would stop her. She gripped the edge of the sink and looked at herself in the mirror, she looked alien without hair, but she smiled at her own reflection, water droplets rolling down her face. She looked a little like Jameson, she thought, as she reached out a hand to touch her reflection in the mirror.

Jamie would leave the house, without looking back, like her brothers before her. Anywhere was better than being alone. Always waiting for letters or worse, for someone to tell her that her brothers all had fallen. She needed to stand on the same ground as them. She needed to feel alive again. So she gathered up what she could find of her brothers that fit, and packed her duffle bag, tossing it over her shoulder. She locked the door behind her, fully prepared to never see her childhood home again.

**

Jamie arrived in England a week later for Basic Training. She was careful about her appearance and was really grateful that she didn’t have large boobs. She didn’t have to actually bind them tightly. She waited for the others to shower and slipped in when they were dressing. It worked surprisingly well, maybe because she was so small, and she could really go anywhere almost undetected. Most of the men in her training class were young themselves, and missing home. They didn’t seem to pay close attention to anyone else, let alone her. She adapted the ways of the men around her. She told crude jokes, and ate with her mouth open. They talked about the dolls at home, and she told them that she couldn’t be tied down by just one. Her secret was safe.

Turned out, she was a hell of a shot. Having three brothers worked to her advantage. Jamie knew how to spit, clean a weapon, and she could drink just about any man under the table. She completed only four days of training when they announced that she was shipping off to France. Apparently there was a shortage everywhere. Soldiers moved in and out of camp restlessly, like little ants.

**

 **22nd July, 1944**  

On the way to her assignment, she sat in the back of a truck. It was bumping, and uncomfortable. She grunted at every rock the truck rolled over. When they arrive in Saint Lo, and she finally could stand up again, and straighten her back, she felt a stinging pain traveling down her spine, but she wouldn’t let it bring her down. **  
**

Even in a war zone, she could admit that France was beautiful. She could see the seaside, and taste the ocean air. Almost like back at Trenton. The other men didn’t seem to notice the sea air, or the clear sky. They gathered their things and were already in step.

Biting on her lip, Jamie secured her webbing, swung her haversack across her back and hung her musette bag around her body, determined to be at the front of the pack. She wouldn’t fall behind. She fetched her rifle from the floor of the truck bed, and jumped off the halting truck, into the bright sun.

They lined up the new arrivals in the front of their respective platoons and were inspected by the platoon leaders. Jamie stood at attention like she was taught, her chest out, next to her training class. Her heartbeat rang in her ears with a woosh, as her eyes landed on the man in front of her. He was tall, about six foot, if she was guessing. His shoulders were broad, and she could see the reflection of their terrified faces in his mossy green eyes.

“Name’s Lieutenant Dean Winchester.” The man announced and Jamie flinched at the deep rolling sound of his voice at first, but at the same time, the bass of it was strangely calming and smooth, as if it was coated with warm and sweet honey.

She pressed her lips together, and tried to ignore the bead of sweat that was on her upper lip.

Lieutenant Winchester stood up straight, puffing up his broad shoulders to intimidate them and for some, it worked, but not with her. She knew these kind of men, all bark, but no bite.  She tightened her jaw, trying not to laugh at her platoon leader’s alpha behavior.

 

Dean turned on his heels, his eyes narrowing at the small replacement in front of him.  _Christ, he can’t be older than eighteen? They make them smaller and smaller._  “What your name, private?”

“Blum, Sir.” It came shouting out of him like a pistol. He’d been drilled to do it, Dean knew.

“Private Blum, huh?” A lopsided grin started to spread on Dean’s face. “Alright, private Blum. From now on, in my platoon, you’ll be Bambi.” And then he looked up from him to the other replacements. “I like to give nicknames to my privates. You’ll all get one if you’re lucky.” He took a good look at their faces in the line before he stalled before private Blum. “You’re fucking small, Bambi. Tell me, what can you contribute to my platoon?”

“Sir, I’m a mean shooter.” Bambi shouted like he’d been drilled in basic.

“Shooter, huh? Good. I can use that. What else, private?” Dean knew that he shouldn’t be so harsh on the first day but hell, he’s got a platoon to lead and a freaking war to win. Then he adds, “Come on! Humor me.”

“I..uh..”

“That’s what I thought –” Dean snickered but got cut off by the small private with doe eyes.

“I know a little German, Lieutenant. You’re right, I’m small but I’m stronger than I look. I’m pretty good, you just watch.” The privates eyes locked with Deans in a challenge. Almost as if he was saying,  _challenge me_.

Dean nodded at that. He knew that he should maybe shout at him, telling him not to talk to his superior like that, but he was too tired for this shit. He still had a briefing to attend and so he stepped back before he turned to Sergeant Harvelle. “Take over, sergeant.”

And then he walked away, leaving Harvelle to deal with instructions.

There was something about Bambi that made his blood freeze. He couldn’t figure out what it was, but it was something that made him want to protect that little son of a bitch who thought he was a smartass. But Dean also knew that private Blum would probably be trouble, he just couldn’t put a finger on  _how yet_.

The look Bambi gave Dean was all too familiar. It was a look he normally saw on Sam. Sammy could look at him with doe eyes, under long lashes, and he would melt. Now there was someone in his company - no, in his freaking platoon - that gave him the same fucking look and it didn’t really bode well with Dean.

He couldn’t stop thinking about Sam and so Dean decided to fill his remaining 10 minutes before briefing with writing him a letter.

 

_Dear Sam,  
_

_I haven’t had a lot of time to write to you lately. I’m sorry for that. Things have been wild, man. I thought you’d be here with us in Saint Lo, but I got words that you stayed behind at Omaha to help clear things out. Sammy, just take good care, alright? Don’t make me abandon my platoon and come save your ass!_

_I thought Omaha was bad, but shit just got worse from there on out. I lost a kid. A goddamn kid, Sam! Not much older than you are. He tried to tell me a joke and stepped on a landmine. I should have seen it but I was so goddamn distracted by him and now, there’s not even enough of him left to send home to his parents, and I know that it’s on me. It’s all on me. You asked me once how many I need to save, and I answered with “all of them”, do you remember? I think I failed, Sammy. I failed real bad._

_I’ve lost half of my platoon before we could take over Saint Lo, Sammy. And hey, we did it without ammo. I hope you’re proud of me. Captain Mills is weird lately, though. He always keeps talking about me taking over. I don’t even know why he does that.. So my job right now is to cheer him the fuck up at keep him alive because, Sam, I don’t wanna lead. I can’t. I will fail, I know that much. I’ll let my platoon down, the whole Baker Company. I’m so fucking screwed if something should happen to Mills._

_We’ve got a shitload of new recruits today. More lives that I need to take care of. They arrived this morning and one of them already rubs me the wrong way. And he’s also the reason why I sat myself down to write to you. He reminds me of you. He has the same set of eyes and already tried to undermine me. I should have stripped him the fuck down, but I couldn’t, Sammy. I couldn’t, because I saw you in him. You have the same eyes and fucking hell, remember the screening of Bambi at camp? He’s got Bambi eyes. Big, doe-like and I swear he gave me that dirty diaper look you’ve always been giving me since I can remember._

_I’m sorry about the rant, brother. It’s just… I don’t know who I should talk to about this. I hoped you skipped half of the letter because there’s nothing but ranting._

_Shit, Sammy, I fucking miss you. I hope you’re ok and this letter will reach you. Take care, alright?_

_Lieutenant Dean Winchester_

Jamie’s fingers twitched at her side.  _Bambi_ , huh? Fuck this. Not even here for a minute and the Lieutenant was already pissing on her parade. If Jamie didn’t think that she’d made a mistake by coming, she sure as hell knew now, but there was no going back anymore.

Sergeant Harvelle directed them to their billets before they would go out for a hot meal. The people in the platoon were in good spirits and some of them even joked that they wanted to stay here for the roof over their head and the regular hot meals. It made Jamie think about what they went through to consider this a piece of heaven.

Jamie fetched her tray and lined up and waited on her serving of food. She balanced the tray to the table where her platoon was sitting and sat at the beginning of the bench, next to Sergeant Harvelle and across from Corporal Tran. She poked around in something that looks awful lot like Mac’n’Cheese, but she couldn’t be sure until she would taste it on her tongue, when Tran asked her a question.

“So, you’re Bambi, huh?” He said it with a casual smile on his face, having heard about her interaction with Lieutenant Winchester.

Jamie swallowed what turned out to really be Mac’n’Cheese, only too watery and salty for her taste, but she couldn’t complain now, could she, before she spoke. “Apparently, that’s me.”

“Hey,” Tran said, pointing his fork in her direction, “Better than being called Dopey or Sneezy.”

She grinned at the thought of Lieutenant Winchester naming people in his platoon after the seven dwarfs. “Why, who’s Dopey?”

Tran points to the private at the end of the table. “Private Sands is Dopey, and next to him,” Tran looks back at her, “we have Private Redfield as Sneezy.”

“Oh, wow.”

“Sneezed his freaking way through the fields after Omaha, man.” Tran and Harvelle laughed when they thought back at the way Private Redfields nose and eyes were puffy red and swollen from hayfever.

“And you, Sergeant, Corporal?” She looks at them, wondering what their nicknames were. It would only be fair if everyone has got one, Jamie thought.

“We don’t. Winchester’s only giving them on the go. So, I guess, congrats to you, Bambi!” Harvelle stuffed his mouth with a big fork of food and then Tran leaned in a little, looking around before he whispered so that only Jamie and sergeant Harvelle could hear him.

“We call the Lieutenant Grumpy.” Tran winked and Jamie snorted before throwing her head back into heartfelt laughter. Harvelle and Tran joined in.

“What’s so funny?” Lieutenant Winchester was standing at the foot of the table, a little behind him, was Lieutenant Novak. They both held a tray in their hands and there was a heavy frown on Lieutenant Winchester’s face.

“Nothing, Sir.” Harvelle said hastily and began to shout down the line to scooch together and Jamie did the same, scooching close to Harvelle, to make room for the two Lieutenants.

Lieutenant Winchester sat down his eyebrows still knotted together in the middle of his forehead, as if he didn’t trust that they were laughing about nothing. Lieutenant Novak on the other hand, had his lips spread into a warm smile and he spoke and first she didn’t know that he meant her, but then he asked again. “Private? Hey, Bambi.”

“Yes, Sir!” It came out a little too enthusiastic and she could see at the corner of her eye that Lieutenant Dean Winchester was holding back a laugh.

“I asked you why you are here. What’s your story?” Lieutenant Novak said, his voice warm and kind. Why couldn’t she be in his platoon?

Jamie exhaled loudly, and then she speaks. “I..uh… my brother’s are all in the army. I didn’t want to be left behind.”

She could see that Lieutenant Winchesters face went from grumpy to understanding and she hoped he was warming up to her.

“How many brothers do you have?” It was Tran who asked and he had sympathy painted on his face.

Jamie stopped eating and laid her fork down. “Three. They’re all scattered around here somewhere.” She could feel that everyone in her close proximity were listening to her because they stopped eating, too. She tapped her fork, not liking being the center of attention after all the time she spent in Basic trying to blend in.

“And parents? Must be tough having all their kids out in the field.” Harvelle asked hesitantly, as if he didn’t want to overstep but he was curious and Jamie understood.

“I don’t have any. We’ve only had each other as far as I can remember.” Jamie bit back the tears that stung in her eyes. There was no way that she wanted to cry there in front of everyone. She was a man, dammit.

Harvelle nodded and returned to his food and the others followed. They all kept eating in silence, and she could only hear Lieutenants Winchester and Novak talking to each other in low voices.

When Lieutenant Winchester finished his plate, he looks around his platoon. “Who’s on sentry?” They’d been rotating sentry with the other companies and he knew that Baker always have one or two sentry shifts at night, but he tended to forget who and when.

“We are, Sir!” The shout came from the other end of the table and Lieutenant Dean Winchester craned his neck.

“Dopey and Sneezy? What a team, huh? What time?”

“Oh-three-hundred, Sir!”

Lieutenant Winchester nodded in the direction of Private Sands and Redford. “Alright you two, you are switching with me and Bambi. Take a nap. Rest. I want you all well rested at Oh-six-hundred.”

Jamie looked at Lieutenant Winchester in disbelief. She just arrived for fuck’s sake. She didn’t even know the perimeter. Didn’t even know how what to do. While her mind was working with the endless tasks and what there is to do on sentry duty, Lieutenant Dean looked at her, raising an eyebrow.

“You got a problem with that, Bambi?”

“No, Sir.” She replied, a little less enthusiastic.

Lieutenant Dean stood up from the bench and balanced his tray in one hand. “Good. Report to the meeting point at Oh-two-fifty.”

And before Jamie could even nod, he was already gone with Lieutenant Novak trailing behind.

“Shit, Bambi. What did you do to piss him off?” Tran looked at her stunned. “He never changed sentry rota with a new replacement before.”

Jamie just shrugged in disbelieve. “I don’t fucking know.”

“Look, he’s grumpy and might be harsh, but he’s looking out for his people, alright? We’ve had rough days behind us and he probably just wanted us to get a good nights worth of sleep and it happened that two of us still had to be on sentry so he took it over and I guess, you were just sitting the closet to him.” Harvelle cleaned his plate with his fork, the metal clinking together and it gave Jamie goosebumps.

“Yeah, probably.” Jamie said meekly and with the others, she put the tray back and walked out of the hall. She paused and looked up to the dimming sky, thinking and hoping that her brothers had it better than she did.


	3. Chapter 3

**July 23rd, 1944**

 

The night had a crisp chill to it, and it started to drizzle after dinner, gently at first, but by the time Dean stepped out for sentry duty it was just pouring. Dean didn’t need that, to be honest. He’d rather be somewhere dry, somewhere warm.

 

Standing in the dark, soaked through his combats, he wondered why he changed the sentry rota and fucking put himself in it. He should’ve lead by Sam’s example, then at least he would’ve been kept out of the rain, but Dean’s mouth was much faster than his brain, and it frequently got him in trouble. He checked his watch with a flip of his wrist, as he stood at the meeting point, waiting on private Blum to arrive. It was Oh-two-forty-seven. Bambi still had three minutes before Dean’d rip him another hole.

 

Dean waited under cover from the rain, and watched the water fall from the roof in streams. His socks are already damp, and he was feeling increasingly cranky. The night was going to be a disaster. He heard Bambi before he saw him, heavy boots stepping in puddles of rain and mud made their way to the meeting point, sprinting even. There was the noise of shuffling and the rain pelting against the helmet of the small private.

 

“I’m here, Lieutenant!” Private Blum shouted loudly and a little out of breath, but nonetheless with a grin on his face, which in turn, made Dean suppress a smirk. Someone was really happy to be on sentry in the dead of the night.

 

Dean fought against his urge to echo the grin but instead, he opted for a frown and a roll of his eyes. “Fucking stop shouting, will ya?”

 

“Shit, sir, sorry!” Bambi apologized, his voice a mutter that almost got lost in the clattering of rainfall.

 

Dean studied the private’s face in the dim light of the fluorescent bulb beneath the roof of the meeting point. Bambi’s eyes were still big, although they look tired and weary. He studied the little of Bambi’s nose and the high of his cheekbones. Bambi reached up to adjust his almost-too-big helmet though at was slick with rain, as he straightened up, almost to attention. Something about the private was off and Dean was still trying to figure out and put a finger on what irked him about Bambi. What it was that made Dean want to take the private under his wings and protect him?

 

_“Lieutenant Winchester, I’ve got a joke for you…”_

 

“Come on.” He took the private to the most western point of their route, both of them walking in silence, only the sound of rain to accompany them. It was kind of weird and uncomfortable to say the least, and Dean could kick himself in the ass for taking Bambi with him. Not only was he green, but he was also quiet, and Dean was almost bored to tears. He should have opted for Sergeant Harvelle. At least Harvelle always had a joke ready, even though it was the same kind of joke, a little lewd and all kinds of stupid, but Dean wasn’t exactly picky.  _He gets what he gets_ , seemed to be a motto that stuck with him like an old piece of chewed gum he stepped on. It was stuck to his boots ever since the day he got off that landing in Omaha.

 

He was lucky he got off at all, to be honest.

 

The bullets rained down on them on that beach. Dean had to haul himself over the sides, and he wasn’t prepared. He wasn’t prepared for the sheer weight of his equipment combined with the pressure of sea water. He hit the water feet first, and he sank and sank and sank. There was no way to get to the surface because his haversack and his rifle were pulling him down. He reached up, clawing through the water, his lungs burning, when e decided to ditch everything that was weighing him down. Dean found himself with only his bare hands to defend himself on the battlefield. He was scrappy, but not scrappy enough to last long without a weapon.

 

Captain Mills shouted, asking who had a weapon on them and then he asked Dean directly and Dean shouted out an answer  _“That bitch tried to drown me, sir!” - “Go find another one!”_ and that’s what Dean did, crawling over dead bodies to retrieve a functioning rifle, trying to avoid the open eyes of the fallen soldiers.

 

Dean and Bambi took a turn and walked in the direction of the most eastern point, the rain still coming down restlessly and sometimes, he thought the angels were weeping with them. Dean could feel the wetness seeping into his cotton undershirt. His socks were now completely wet. They were going to be soaked come Oh-five-hundred.

To Dean’s surprise, private Blum didn’t complain. Not even once and Dean wondered if he too, could feel the water slowly filling up the boots that were promised to be waterproof. 

 

They talked a little. Dean knew now where Blum was from. _“Trenton, North Carolina, sir.”_ How he grew up.  _“No mom. Dad ate a bullet. Just me and my brothers, sir.”_ How he was looking up to his brothers and how he missed them.  _“Tough motherfuckers, but yeah, I worry. Jameson always was a terrible shot.”_ Dean knew the feeling too well.

 

At almost Oh-four-hundred-hours, he got to know a lot about Bambi but he kept his life to himself, and Bambi didn’t dare to ask him questions. Even if he wanted to ask, he didn’t. Dean could see the twitch of his lip, and furrow of his eyebrow as he considered his words carefully before he let them go. Dean would have answered them if he would’ve been asked, but he knew that Bambi was scared of him. Dean wondered if he was really giving the impression that he was untouchable at times and he thought that he maybe should change. War was tough, no doubt; but private Milligan was right, they deserved to smile every now and then.

 

_“Come on, Lieutenant! Just one joke. Just one smile, not everything has to be so goddamn serious all the time…”_

 

He walked Bambi across the muddy field to reach their next checkpoint. It was almost impossible to cross the flooding field, and Dean felt himself sinking deeper with each step he took. He certainly didn’t sign up for this and right about now, Dean wished more than ever, that he didn’t take up that sentry duty. Mud was the worst. Hard to get off and there would be days until they would be able to wash themselves with warm water.

 

As Dean took the next step, squishing into the soft earth, he heard Bambi go down next to him with a heavy  _splat_. The private landed face first in mud, sprawled out like a damn X. Dean looked down to him and Bambi looked back at Dean with his face covered in brown mess. He blinked a few times, trying to see through the mud.

 

“Shit, Bambi, you alright?” Dean tried to sound concerned. Bambi reached up to wipe the mud off his face, but was met with a handful of mud, somehow making it worse. Dean’s carefully placed facade slowly crumbled. The next thing he knew, he was throwing his head back in a full body laugh, one that Dean didn’t know if he’d ever recover from it. It felt good. He haven’t laughed like this in a while and there were tears in his eyes.

 

He could hear private Blum mutter something incoherent under his breath that sounded something like  _Fuck you, sir,_  but Dean didn’t pay attention, he was busy wiping away the tears of laughter that blurred his vision.

 

“Help me up, Sir?” Blum asked, holding out a muddy hand for Dean to take. He stared at the privates muddy hand, considering not taking it. “Come on, sir. I’m gonna fall again if I try to get up on my own.” He could see a young Sam in front of him then, complaining after falling down, just needing his brother. Dean grabbed at Bambi’s small hands in an attempt to pull him up.

 

Nobody could prepare him for what came after, though. Dean pulled, but it seemed by some grace of God, Bambi gathered his strength and before Dean could even blink, he was lying flat on top of the private, his helmet dipped in mud and it was only thanks to his reflexes that Dean could hold his head above the sinking puddle. He barely managed to avoid dipping his face into the mud like Bambi did.

 

Dean was taken by surprise, his mouth hanging open, and muttered out a “What the fucking fuck?” before Blum turned around beneath him. They were face to face and then Bambi smiled, his white teeth shining through the mud on his mouth and jaw, and Dean stared into doe eyes that almost sparkled through the dirt. They were so big and brown and full of laughter as Bambi’s body shook under him.

 

All of a sudden, Dean felt his blood rushing through his head, the pounding of his heartbeat echoed in his ears and he couldn’t hear the rain anymore. It was like the whole world stopped existing, as if there’s only the two of them in the mud and the only thing he could hear was the laughter of private Blum, light and free, but then that died down, too. Dean suddenly knew that they’d been in the position for too long, but he was unable to move.

 

His eyes were staring into Blum’s big ones before they travel down, resting on the private’s mouth. Bambi realized the stare and he wiped away at the mud with the back of his hand. Now Dean could see the lips. They were pink and plum and slick with rain. The flash of the edge of Bambi’s teeth were showing as his lips were still crooked into a grin. Dean noticed the heavy breath coming out of Blum’s open lips. It was warm against his own damp face. Normally when someone got this close to him he was yelling, or being yelled at. Hot, sweaty breath on his mouth.  _“Winchester can you tell me why you’re such an epic, fucking disappointment?”_ His eyes landed on a drop of rain falling down on the private’s top lip, and Dean’s mouth felt really dry, despite all the rain. Dean darted his tongue out, licking away the feeling of dryness on his lips. Bambi, unknowingly, mimicked him and licked his own bottom lip. And then a voice pulled Dean back to reality.

 

“Lieutenant? Sir!”

 

Dean jolted to his knees, scrambling up and held out a hand for Bambi to take and that time, he was fucking prepared. He wouldn’t let Bambi pull him down a second time.

 

“Sorry, Sir, if I was out of line.” Bambi gladly took Dean’s hand and let Dean pull him up to his feet.

 

Dean should have shouted. Dressed him down and probably put him on latrine duty from there to Germany, but he couldn’t. He couldn’t with those big brown eyes staring up at him like he knew he fucked up. _Damn those eyes_. Instead, he just chuckled, and adjusted his helmet. “We’ll be needing a fucking shower after sentry, Bambi.” His hand came up to wipe at the chunk of mud that was logged between Blum’s shoulder and neck helping the private get rid of the dirt.

 

They continue to walk in silence now, Dean still recovering from what was happening between them. There was a feeling in his gut that he couldn’t quite put a finger on. It was bugging the hell out of him.

 

When they arrived at the further most outpost, they heard someone calling. “Thunder!”

Bambi and Dean replied with a, “Flash.” Dean raised an eyebrow, he was a little impressed that Bambi knew the code, and used it correctly. 

 

“So fucking glad, Sir!” A rough male voice said.

 

They could see three figures walking towards them as the guard from the 3rd Battalion let them pass.

 

Dean studied them as they limped towards him. There were two parachuters that supported a third one who probably broke his leg on landing. One of them stood before Dean and Bambi, as the other one still supported his friend. He straightened up to attention and greeted Dean with a nod in salutation. “101st Airborne Division, sir. We missed our target. Had to find a way around. We were hoping that you guys would be here already.” Dean could see from his suit that it was a sergeant. He was maybe as tall as Dean and as broad.

 

“Jim?” Bambi could be heard saying next to him.

 

The sergeant looked down to Bambi, his eyebrow furrowed into a knot in the middle, as if he was trying to categorize Bambi in his head. And then when realization hit, his face was blushing and Dean could see that the sergeant’s lips widened into a smile. “Jamie?”

 

Bambi nodded frantically before his voice broke into a laughter and then he climbed up Jim’s body in a hug and to Dean’s surprise, Jim didn’t say no. He just tightened his grip around Bambi, as to support the small private and when Bambi was up there, the sergeant spun him around, laughing.

 

Dean felt like he’s intruding and that he probably should step away, but he was the Lieutenant, and it was his fucking sentry duty. He cleared his throat loudly, which prompted Jim to let Bambi down and straighten himself up. Dean coughed lightly, to suppress another grin because Jim was now muddy, too.

“This is my brother, Lieutenant. Jim Blum.”

“Great to meet you, Sergeant.” Dean nodded in greeting.

Then Bambi turned to Jim, still smiling through the mud on his face. “Lieutenant Winchester’s my platoon leader.”

“Oh…” Jim Blum said and Dean could see that something clicked in Jim’s mind and then he blurted out a  “Oooohh.. Well, shit. Thank you for taking care of my brother then, Lieutenant.”

Dean nodded in reply. His heart felt heavy. Taking care of someone was not really his specialty. “Get yourselves checked at the medical tent and report to Battalion Staff. Someone should be in the tent.”

“Yes, Sir.” Jim, squeezed Bambi’s shoulder before he took his men to the medical tent.

 

***

 

 

Reveille’s at Oh-five-hundred and when Dean and private Blum walked to their billets, the soldiers were already pouring out of the door, walking to the mess hall to fetch breakfast.

 

Even though Dean was staying with the other platoon leaders and NCO’s of Baker and Able company, they still stayed in the same building. They stepped in and navigated their way past the stream of soldiers coming out of it. Some of them looked at the pair and cringed their noses. Yeah, Dean could smell it himself, thank you very much.

 

As they got to the landing where they were staying, Dean took off his helmet and pointed his nose in the direction of the showers. The water was cold but he liked to pretend that it was warm.  _He get what he gets_ , isn’t it? “Private, shower and I’ll see you in 10 minutes.”

 

“Sir –” Blum paused, as if he wanted to say more but he didn’t. Dean lowered his head and walked to his room to change for showering.

 

Dean was in the showers quickly, he gotta live up to his own time frame and he was hungry. Hoping that there’s something left before he had to be ready at Oh-six-hundred. However, when he was inside, Blum wasn’t there and he wondered if Bambi was so freaking quick that he finished before Dean even got a change to come in. Dean didn’t pay much attention as he soaped himself with cheap soap and washed away the mud that was stuck behind his ears. Dean closes his eyes, relishing himself under the spray rain of the shower head. It lacked pressure and yes, it was cold, but he liked to pretend that he’s back in Kansas, with high water pressure and a warmth to the wetness that soothed his pain. He opened his eyes again to Blum walking in, still in his shirt and combats.

 

“I..uh.. sorry, Lieutenant.” Bambi’s voice was small, almost as if he was embarrassed and Dean wondered if he’d  ever seen a dick before, because Bambi’s eyes lingered a fraction too long on his private part. Dean wasn’t a prude, but somehow it felt uncomfortable. He decided to just not think about it and finish showering. Bambi’s got 3 brothers, he sure as hell should be used to seeing dicks?

 

Dean noticed after a while that Bambi was still staring at Dean’s lower half and he might have been wrong, because he couldn’t see it as Bambi’s face was still a little muddy but Dean could swear that Bambi was blushing.

 

“Never seen a dick, Bambi?” He asked grumpily, trying to get Bambi’s attention and divert his gaze away from Dean’s dick.

 

“Yeah, sure have, sir. But uh.. “ Dean could feel that Bambi was trying to come up with a good clap back. “..never such a small one, Lieutenant, is all.” The grin that was on Bambi’s face was undeniably, a wicked one.

 

“Fuck off, it’s cold water, alright. Jeez, relax. Wanna know how you’re holding up, private.” Dean replied with a growl. It bothered him, very much so, and he could call the private out, tell Bambi to strip right here but he doesn’t. He’s a leader, not a fucking dick. So, instead, Dean finished his shower and dried himself with the little towel they provided and got out without a glance back.

 

When Dean was dressed and ready, he thought that he wanted to see if Bambi was finished, but when Dean stepped out into the landing on their floor, he could still hear the water running. He didn’t want to peek, he really didn’t, but the door was open a creek and on the passing, he caught a glimpse Bambi. A glimpse of his narrow waist and full ass cheek which in turn made Dean tense and there’s a flutter around his stomach. And Dean knew that he was not queer,  _nuh-uh_.

 

Shaking Bambi out of his head, Dean pulled back and opted for calling in there. “See you at Oh-six-hundred, private!”

 

 

 

After the morning briefing, the soldiers had time to themselves for a couple of minutes and Jamie excused herself in a rush to search for Jim. She found him sitting on the steps, or what was left of it, of a fountain. “Hey,” She said, sitting down next to him.

He didn’t turn to look at her, his eyes focused on his clasped hands. “So, private Blum, huh?” 

 

She could hear it in Jim’s tone that he wasn’t pleased to find her there. Jamie was a little sad, but she understood. She wouldn’t be pleased either. Jim wanted the best for her, and there she was, letting him down.

 

“Look, I’m sorry, Jim, I really am.” She bit back tears, fully intending not to cry when she was out in the open.

 

“Jamie, what the fuck do you think you’re doing? What the hell, I thought I made it clear that your only job is to stay behind and fucking stay alive?” Jim turned to her. He was angry and fumbled with his cigarette tin. Like a lot of men, Jim took on smoking. He never smoked at home, the money was too short for luxuries. “If they find out, you’re so fucked! Hell, maybe I’ll be fucked. We all will be!”

 

“They won’t.” Jamie sighed, and then she said with a calm voice, “Not if you keep it a secret.”

 

Jim looked at her, shaking his head in disbelief. “Jamie, you’re a fucking girl!” He hissed. “How many secrets can you keep from them? You’re fucking bleeding every month. Someone  _will_ notice! And, and… What if you die? Fuck, you’re with the 29th. You’re actually the one who goes face first into combat. You’re the first they’ll be aiming at!” Jim nearly spat in her face from the strain of keeping his voice down and being angry and wanting to shout it out.

 

“You’d have done the same, Jim.” She lowered her head, put it between her knees and stared at the ground. “I haven’t had my period since the day you left, by the way. Four fucking years, Jim. That’s how much stress I’m under. When Jameson left, I didn’t want to exist anymore. I just.. I..” Jamie’s voice broke, and she wiped at her wet eyes with the back of her dirt smeared hand before they could drop down her cheeks.

 

Jim took another drag from his cigarette and exhaled before he rubbed at his face and pinched the bridge of his nose. He suddenly started to chuckle. “Shit… Fuck, Jamie. Why are we like this? Our family is so fucked up. I don’t even know where the others are.”

 

Jamie looks up again, grinning. “I don’t know either, but I know that you’re here.”

 

“Well, not long. I’m leaving again this afternoon.” Jim put out his cigarette on the sole of his boots before he flickered it across the street. “Jamie. Take off your helmet.”

 

She did what her brother asked of her and Jim rolled his eyes as he saw her hair. It was growing back unevenly and he ruffled his palms through it. “Grow it out, will ya? Not all men have such short hair. A bit longer and you’d look great.”

 

Jamie elbowed him in the ribs before they both laughed.

 

“Keep close to Winchester, alright?” Jim putting his arm around her shoulders and pulled her close.

 

“Why?”

 

“I heard he’s a good guy. He lost a kid out of sheer stupidity and he’s blaming himself still. It wasn’t his fault.” She looked up at him, wondering how Jim always managed to make friends everywhere he went. “And I saw how he looked at you, Jamie. If looks could kill, I’d be dead when you climbed up my body last night.”

 

“Shut up.”

 

“True! Maybe he sees something in you worth protecting. I hope he does. He’ll keep you save, alright. Keep him close. Don’t try to fuck it up.” It was more a warning because he knows that Jamie tend to fuck things up. Jim probably couldn’t even count on both his hands how many times he had to come and haul her ass out of whatever shit situation she was in. The fights, he had to break, the boys he had to chase away.

 

“I won’t.” Jamie said truthfully.

 

“Good. Also don’t get dead.”

“I try.” 

“Fuck you.” Jim chuckled, looking around to see if someone was watching them. He could see Winchester standing off near the building, talking to some other Lieutenants, but his eyes were fixed on them. He probably didn’t even listen to what the others were saying. Jim pulled Jamie close anyway, kissing her forehead twice and ruffled his palm through her hair. 


	4. Chapter 4

**July 28th, 1944**  

_Dear Dean,_

_Guess who got promoted? You’re writing to Sergeant Sam Winchester now, jerk! I expect to be called that forever and always. Other than that, we’re sitting here quite comfortable on the bed you guys made for us. I have to handle a lot of logistics. Sending back POW for camp and shit, Dean, I have pity for them. They’re not doing anything wrong. They fight as we do, they follow orders. Some of them are only 17! Can you imagine? I don’t think that I’ll ever forget them, and I can’t say it out loud but yeah, they deserve better._

_Shit, Dean, I’m sorry about that kid. I bet it’s not your fault. It’s never your fault, but you have to go and make it harder on yourself every fucking time, don’t you? I know you. Let it go. Move the fuck on. It’s war Dean, you can’t save them all._

_You call the new private Bambi? You’re such a dick, you know that? I bet you do. Btw, how are Sneezy and Dopey? Seriously, Dean, stop giving them nicknames. But yeah, that new private sounds like a treat. Just think that every time he looks at you, that it’s me judging you, alright? I hope he rolls his eyes at you too, you totally deserve it. And hey, if he does, don’t punish him. I swear if you do, I’ll never write to you again, are we clear? I try to sound like someone with authority now. Doesn’t really work all the time, but I’m getting there._

_Stay alive, Dean, alright? I miss you, too. Hey, remember Winchester Surprise? That’s better than the K-ratio sitting in my bag since the day we left England. I said I always hated Winchester Surprise, but that thing would be a damn treat right now._

_See you around, Dean_

_SERGEANT Sam Winchester_

***

 

 

They were preparing to leave Saint Lo and move south to Vier. Fucking finally! As much as Dean enjoyed the rest, his body was itching to fucking move out. He wanted to go home and in order to do that, they need to keep on moving. Need to keep on fighting. Need to win.

 

The weather could’ve been better for the march. The clouds hung heavy in the sky and there was a dribble of rain and Dean knew that they should’ve considered themselves lucky if it didn’t pour all the way to Vire.

 

“29 Let’s go!” Captain Mills shouted ever so enthusiastically and apart from the occasional groans of disappointments, they go. Dean chose to ignore Dopey who groaned the loudest. They moved in companies. Baker company were some 400 odd men that were probably going to be hard to miss should the Germans spot them.

 

As if on cue, it started to rain the moment they moved out, and Private Fitzgerald mumbled something that he’d rather a broad is wet and not him which earned him a punch to the helmet from Harvelle with a low, “Now’s not the time to joke, Fitzgerald!” The others cheered Harvelle on. Dean walked in the middle of the platoon and chuckled at Fitzgerald and Harvelle who were still arguing in front of him.

 

They marched towards Vire, raiding farm houses in between. It was easy, there were no casualties from his side and they kept on moving with German POWs. Battalion staff would come collect them once they settled into their harbor area.

 

Dean always felt bad, capturing German POWs. More often than not, they were scared shitless. He would be too, having 10 rifles pointed at him and knowing that one of them could shoot anytime. Some of them were young. Younger than they looked, because war made the men look older than they really were.

 

“So, who’s up for a joke?” Corporal Barnes asked as he felt morale dropping the further they got. They’d been out there for four hours and it hadn’t stopped raining yet. If anything, the rain even picked on.

 

“Barnes, no!” Dopey said from the back. “Your jokes are the worst.”

 

“Barnes, yes!” Barnes shouted back to Dopey. “If you think you can tell better jokes, be my guest.”

 

“Barnes, no.” Dean needed to end this as their leader. Besides, Barnes’ jokes were really the worst, everyone knew that except of Barnes himself.

 

Barnes turned to Dean, “Come on, Lieutenant. Not fair. I saw your lips quivering at the last joke I told.”

Dean’s face remained straight. “That’s just because I was holding myself back from barfing.” 

 

“That’s a good one! See Barnes, the Lieutenant is funny!” Dopey called to the front and others agreed.

 

Dean took a look back and smirked when his gaze fell on Bambi who was a couple lines behind him. He was busy the last couple of days, preparing for his platoon to move out that he didn’t have the time to check how the new privates got along, including Bambi. If he was being honest, Dean avoided Bambi in the first two days after Jim left. He didn’t even know why he did it. He just knew that he couldn’t be around Bambi. He wasn’t ready to feel that weird thing in his stomach again. So, he did what he could do best, keeping himself busy and helping Mills plan their next mission.

 

But now, in the rain, Dean couldn’t tear his eyes away from Bambi. The small private looked tired and it was like all the life had been sucked out of him, despite the men getting a bit of a rest. If Bambi was bothered already, the way they still keep a tight schedule when they are supposedly resting, then boy, he was going to be in for a freaking treat when shit goes down.

“Bambi on me!” Dean shouted to the back and he could see that at his call, Bambi’s face lit up and Dean watched as the private scrambled to the front to catch up with him, metal of his rifle clacking against his canteen. Dean was glad that they weren’t on noise discipline.

 

“Yes, sir!” The short guy said, looking up to him and the rain splatter in his face made his eyes stand out even more than they normally would. Even in the grey of the rain, Dean could see the brown orbs clearly, glowing curiously.

 

Dean kept his voice low as not to raise suspicion on why he called up a private with an order, but has nothing to say in regards of their mission. “How are you?”

 

Bambi lowered his gaze then, looking down as they march through gravel and rain, their boots splashing through puddles and Dean kind of hoped, that his socks would stay dry. “I’m ok. Just.. missing my brother, is all.”

 

Dean knew the feeling of missing a brother. He’d been there and experienced it every day since they got on the LCVP to cross the channel over to France.

 

Still, Dean couldn’t shake the feeling that something wasn’t right with the small private. Bambi was different. He watched Bambi, when he talked to Jim. Dean was standing maybe 20 feet away, pretending to listen to Balthazar’s rant about his boots that didn’t fit him anymore and Battalion were not able to provide him with new ones until they would arrive in Vire. Balthazar went on and on and Dean was clinking out of the conversation then. Instead, he watched. He watched, as Jim put an arm around Bambi. Watched, as Jim pulled Bambi close and gave him a peck on the head. Now he doesn’t know how other brothers are doing this because apart from a hug, Sam didn’t get jack from him, but also it wasn’t really his place to go there, but something was weird about it. The way Bambi leaned into the kiss and closed his eyes. They were close, Dean could tell. And it might have been a totally stupid thought that stemmed from deep in his gut, but Dean had to admit, that he felt jealous. He didn’t even know why.

 

Dean shook his head, trying to get the thought out of his mind. “Good. You’re doing good. We’ll be in Vire soon.”

He didn’t dismiss Bambi, and Bambi didn’t fall back. They kept walking comfortably side by side. 

 

***

 

 

**July 30th, 1944**

 

They were so fucking close to Vire when they got cut off by German battery. It was just a small village, consisting of 5 to probably 6 farmhouses. Dean knew that it would be too good to be true if they would just get from one city to another without being shot at, but one could still dream.

 

Now, he found himself jumping out of the way of mortar shells.

 

The rounds were raining on them, mortars and shells flying over them from somewhere high above and Captain Mills was shouting to  _Get the fuck down_ and  _duck into cover_.

 

Dean couldn’t fucking see anything as the rounds touched the earth and whirled up clouds of dusts. They ducked down and Dean shouted to his men. “Be ready to shoot as soon as the smoke lands!” He pulled his rifle up into his shoulders, his finger ready on the trigger. He fired  _click click click_. 

Dean heard how a bullet tore through Private Spengler’s thighs. He could hear Harvelle shouting for a medic. Another round of shells hissing above them and then there was Dean; finger on the trigger.  _Click click_. The counter fire stopped then, all of a sudden, which wasn’t suspicious at all.

 

“Where are they?” Dean shouted at nobody in particular and then he scrambled up. He swung himself against something that used to be a truck. Only it was riddled with bullet rounds and it probably was on fire at some point not too long ago.

 

“Balthazar, take three platoon around east of axis, use the trees and high grass as covers. Two platoon, support them with suppressive fire!” Captain Mills was huddled behind the big tree with a couple of new privates who were shaking visibly. It was the first combat they run into after they’ve been replaced.

 

Balthazar and Novak moved out, leaving more room for Dean and Gabe’s platoons. They heard them. There was shouting and firing and someone screamed for a medic. Shurley, the T-4 Medic of the company was about to get up but Mills pulled him back down. He couldn’t risk it, besides there’s a medic with two platoon. They laid low, listening to the fire of guns, shouting of Germans and their own men. They waited until they clearly heard Balthazar shout out an “All clear!” And that’s when Dean noticed that he’d been holding his breath all along with occasional short gasps.

“It’s not clear.” Someone mumbled. Dean craned his neck over the two bodies next to him to see Bambi pressing his back against the old truck. 

 

“What’s that, private?” Dean asked before he pointed his chin to Bambi. “Bambi, on me!”

 

Dean watched as the men made way for Bambi to move to him. They were shoulder to shoulder and he turned his head, looking Bambi in the eye. His heart was pounding and his breathing was heavy. So was Bambi’s.

 

“What do you mean?” Dean asked him lowly and even though Bambi was breathing hard, he was completely composed. At ease.

 

“It’s not over. Platoons two and three? They went around the right but some stray bullets also came from the left. Clearly they only cleared the right path, and I bet there’s at least one sniper up somewhere. Permission to get up and take a look, Sir?”

 

“The hell you will.” Dean growled turning around and got on his knees to take a look himself, but Bambi was next to him already.

 

The private pointed his chin in the direction of an old Barn, standing maybe 200 yards away from the rest of the houses. It was big with a high attic. “There,” Bambi whispered. “That’s where I’d be.” There was a little window that almost wasn’t visible. “Probably about 450 yards, sir. 500 tops. If you give me the go, I can take him out, sir.”

 

Dean turned back to Captain Mills. “Sir, where our marksman?” Not that he didn’t want to give Bambi a chance, but he really didn’t want to give Bambi a chance when there was a marksman in their ranks who could maybe do a better job. Bambi was a freaking greenhorn, for fucks sake.

 

“They’re up around, Winchester. Do I need to radio for them to come back? Radio, on me!” Mills was already calling out for the radio man to come over and when the private got up to run towards the CO, his head snapped back and Dean thought that he might have even broken his neck by sheer force. “Shit, Crawford!” Captain Mills shouted and scrambled over to check on Private Crawford.

“Captain! Stay down! Everybody stay down! Sniper!” Dean screamed in his deep voice and the ground shook from everyone who planted themselves on their stomachs and ducked for cover.

“Harvelle! Get me a sniper rifle.” Dean knew that Sergeant Harvelle was always carrying an extra sniper rifle since they lost their shooter some days ago. He shouted his command at Harvelle while he looks at Bambi and sure as hell, Bambi smirked at him. 

 

“Sir.” Harvelle was winding himself in the dirt as he handed Dean the rifle.

 

Bambi was ridding himself off his haversack and musette bag and put his own rifle on the ground before he took the sniper rifle from Dean, still with a stupid grin on his face. “Thanks, Lieutenant. You won’t be disappointed.”

 

Dean watched as the small private braced himself and the rifle on the door of the truck and then he adjusted his visor. Dean watched, when the private’s tongue darted out to lick his lips as he concentrated and all of a sudden, Dean’s lips felt very dry and he mimicked Bambi.

 

“Oh, hi there.” Bambi was whispering to himself, smiling even.

 

Dean watched as Bambi little fingers pulled the trigger as he huffed out another whisper. “This is for shooting at me, fucker!” A shot hissed through the air and then Bambi turned around, smiling brightly at Dean. “Done.”

 

Dean grinned then and his men cheered behind him.

 

“Where the fuck did you learn that from?” Dean was still chuckling and he held out a hand to help Bambi up.

 

“I have three brothers and they do all kinds of weird shit.” Bambi shrugged, handing the rifle back to Sergeant Harvelle and put on his haversack and musette bag before picking up his rifle from the ground.

“Shit, you’re good.” Dean exclaimed as he put his hand on the private’s shoulder, squeezing. Caught up in the moment, almost forgetting himself, he was tempted to pull the private in for a hug, but he caught himself last minute. “Remind me to never shoot at you, alright?” 

 

“Or you’ll see what will happen, Lieutenant.” Bambi said with a wink.

 

 

**August 1st, 1944**

 

Jamie dug into the ground with her entrenching tool. They had to dig up foxholes and shell scrapings for the night. The ground wasn’t hard but the deeper she got, the wetter it got, too. It had been raining non stop for the majority of two days and the ground is soaked. She didn’t even know if she wanted to sleep down in a wet and damp foxhole to be perfectly honest. but what other options would she have?

 

Captain Milligan stopped by while she worked on her foxhole and she paused, standing up at attention before the Captain put his arm on her shoulder telling her to be  _at ease_  with a calming voice and Jamie relaxed. He then began to praise her for her skills. Jamie felt good, real good. She smiled as the praise rained down on her which is the first time that she really thought that she could make a difference there.

 

The Lieutenant came back from the briefing with the Captain a little later and he stopped by every shell scraping and manned foxhole, making sure that the men had everything they need and to just randomly talk to them. Listening to their rant, taking in their gripes and even joke around. It was to keep their morale up, Jamie knew that much and Lieutenant Winchester was doing a good job. It would be a while until he would reach her anyway because she chose a place far back, not that she was anti social but she just sometimes needed a break from the amount of testosterone lingering in the air.

 

She could hear Sergeant Lafitte and Corporal Tran talking about the sweetheart they left at home and how eager they were to finally kill Hitler and go back so they can  _fuck them and make them pregnant_  - their words, not hers.

 

Private Trenton was curious, asking Lafitte and Tran to see the photographs of their girls at home and they compared them; which was a little gross, because then Trenton was saying that he’d been horny all week and asked if he could borrow the photographs to jack himself off. This, of course, angered Tran and Lafitte and it nearly ended in a fight had it not been for Lieutenant Winchester. He happened to walked by and ask how they were, and if they needed anything he could provide. Trenton then asked the Lieutenant a question that got Jamie’s attention. She stopped digging for a brief moment, so she could hear better. “Sir, you also have a sweetheart at home?”

 

“If yes, don’t give the picture to Trenton!” Tran tried to warn his Lieutenant.

 

Lieutenant Winchester chuckled at that, but didn’t answer in which Lafitte jumped in jokingly. “The Lieutenant has his Sam, Trenton.” Suddenly Jamie felt as if she was intruding, listening in on them, so she tuned out the talking and returned her focus to her digging.

 

Jamie dug her foxhole deep and decided to go down and rest. She was not on sentry tonight. Maybe it was some kind of reward. She’d take a nap and maybe if the fire was still on later, she’d make sure to go get coffee, but for now, she just wanted to close her eyes and forget for a moment that she was Private Blum. That she was a woman at war. A woman amongst men. That her family were all out in the field. That she was alone there.

 

“You alright down there, private?” Lieutenant Winchester’s voice rumbled above her and she opened up her eyes hesitantly.

 

“Fine, Sir.” She tried to smile, but she felt weak. She wasn’t used to walking for miles with heavy bags hung around her body and a freaking rifle slung on her shoulder.

 

“Permission to come in?” He asked with a smile so wide, she could see his perfect teeth through the dirt on his cheeks. Jamie didn’t pay much attention before, but then in the hazy light of the evening, when the sun was painting the sky all shades of purple, she could see that Lieutenant Winchester was breathtakingly handsome. How did she miss that before?

 

“Sure.” She moved a little to press herself to the far side of the wall in order to make room for him. He didn’t need to ask for permission actually. She witnessed before how he slides into a foxhole without asking, for a short nap, whenever one of the occupants was on sentry. The Lieutenant was always too lazy or too busy to dig his own hole and some of them were staying together in foxholes so Lieutenant Winchester could always find a place to nap whenever he wanted.

 

He placed his bags and rifle at the opening and scrambled down and then he lost balance and almost landed gracefully on his face. Jamie let out a wheeze before she put her hand over her mouth.

“Yeah, ha-ha.” He mocked before she even got the chance to say anything. “Shut it, Bambi!” Lieutenant Winchester took off his helmet and sat himself down beside her in the dirt.  ****Shoulder to shoulder. Jamie noticed the folded picture neatly tucked into his helmet as it was lying upside down in between his feet.

She looked over to him and saw the line of the helmet that dug into his scalp and the bead of sweat that was on his forehead. The crinkles by his eyes. She could watch as a droplet of his sweat made its way down his jaw and dribble down his neck. His heart was pumping fast, she could see the pulsing on his throat. Lieutenant Winchester had freckles on his face. His hair was greasy and slicked back and he smelled like tobacco and wait, was that whiskey? 

 

“You want a smoke?” He asked and Jamie politely declined. She had never smoked and even though she could here, because the cigarette came as a part of their ratio, she didn’t pick up the bad habit. She was never good with shaking off bad habits. But goddamn she could use whiskey. “Oh.” The Lieutenant said, stashing away his tin of cigarettes and didn’t light up one and it surprised her that he had manners. The way he breathed out the word _‘Oh’_ that carried the sweet scent of whiskey with it, didn’t slip her mind, though, but she didn’t dare to ask.

He pulled out a big flask from his webbing and paired it with a wicked grin while he raised his eyebrow at her. “Then maybe this?” 

She smiled back and tsked. “Lieutenant!” He shushed her immediately, holding a finger to his lips. 

 

He quickly unscrewed it and took a sip before handing it over to her. She held it to her lips and he watched, as she tipped it back, and let the warm liquid go down her throat. It was harsh and it burned, but it was also warm. It was just what she needed. She handed it back to him, coughing a little as the last drop of it got lost in her windpipe and Lieutenant Winchester giggled at that.

 

“You’re weak.” He said but he didn’t meant it, Jamie knew.

 

She felt her eyes roll toward the sky in feigned annoyance, before she could really process what she was doing. She didn’t mean to disrespect him, but she was caught up in the moment, and she hoped she wouldn’t be dressed down for it. She was still when she realized what she’d done and the Lieutenant just stared at her warmly, as if his mind was trying to process something. Something important.

 

They looked at each other and he leaned in a little. Their noses brushed gently. She didn’t know if it was the alcohol or something else all together, but her head started to spin and she wanted to pull away, but she couldn’t, not when he’s breathing hotly against her lips. They were breathing the same air that smelled of sweet whiskey. Jamie closed her eyes briefly, as if she was giving him permission to kiss her and she didn’t even know why she did that, because she was a man and Lieutenant Winchester was a man, too, and he most likely wasn’t queer. The Lieutenant stalled, his face so close, their foreheads touched, their breathing mingled.

 

Lieutenant Winchester widened his eyes in shock after a moment, and he scrambled away to the other end of the tight foxhole. “Shit, Bambi. I..I..uh.. shit, fuck I’m sorry.”

 

He grabbed his flask in a hurry, putting it back into his combat jacket and got out of the foxhole. “Sorry…” He said again, his back to her.

 

Jamie couldn’t say anything. There was no sound that made it past her lips, despite them parting.

 

He turned around and back to look down at her but his gaze was anywhere, but on her eyes. “You did good the last few days. Keep up the good work.” With that, he was gone.


	5. Chapter 5

**August 3rd, 1944**

_Fuck fuck fuck fuck!_

_Goddamn it!_

Dean could kick his own ass. What the fuck was he thinking? What happened? What the hell was wrong with him? He ain’t queer. Oh no, he definitely wasn’t, alright. When he looked into Bambi’s eyes and then the private rolled them at him, all Dean could think about was Sam’s letter. _Just think that every time he looks at you, that it’s me judging you, alright? I hope he rolls his eyes at you too, you totally deserve it._ He blacked out right there, staring into Bambi’s eyes, and when he came back to his senses, he was a breath away from kissing his own damn private!

_Shit shit shit!_

But, thankfully, there was no time to dwell on things that happened. They marched toward Vire, and Dean could already see the the old brick buildings of the city. And of course it rained again. It was just their luck, wasn’t it? Dean thought, as he hunched his shoulders, shielding himself from the rain a little.

Moving down in the open, they lied low until it was clear and they could sprint over to the suburb of La Salliere - hopefully still undetected. They split up in platoons with One and Three platoons going left, Two platoon was hanging back and Four platoon took the right. Grenadiers and bombers made their way toward Vire, rifles lifted, aggressively taking store by store, building by building.

It wasn’t until Blake’s scream echoed through the rain sprinkled air, as he fell, hit by a round in his abdomen and thigh, that Dean knew that there was nothing to be saved. An artery was hit, making the blood spurting out of the medic like a fountain. He didn’t understand. Medics didn’t get shot. They were invisible. Dean yelled for a medic. “Medic! Fucking hell, Medic down! We need a medic!” But the two other medics were with the other two platoons and there was simply no time. “Captain! Radio in for a medic!” Dean screamed himself hoarse making himself heard over the shells and mortars hissing over their heads, hoping that Captain Mills would hear him from 100 yards away.

Dean pressed his body into the doorframe, waiting for the enemy to show themselves so he could fucking shoot them through their eyebrows for the distrasterous war crime against a medical officer.

Dean scanned his platoon which were scattered on either side of the street, all of them pressing close to the walls of the buildings. He saw their faces, pale and painted with fear. When he looked back at Blake, he saw him twitching in the rain. Blake was lying in a puddle of red. Oh fuck. Baker was going to lose a medic. He realized it then, with Blake’s blood staining his hands.

“Move move move! Find them!” He yelled to his Grenadiers and they pushed themselves away from the concrete and door frames with a _yes, sir!_ \- _on it, sir!_ and went in with their rifles first.

The coast wasn’t clear and Dean waited, hoping that he’d hear an all clear from his men. He turned, looking down the line, only to see Bambi three privates away from him. Bambi’s fingers were twitching, and Dean reached out to tell him that it was okay. His mouth didn’t get the words out before Bambi pushed off from the wall, running toward Blake. He crouched next to Blake, in the rain and blood.

_Shit!_

“Bambi, fucking get off the street!” Dean could only yell before there was a clatter and it rained rounds on the pavement. “Covering fire! Covering fire! Try to divert them from Bambi and Blake!”

He watched as Bambi talked to Blake, the voice of the small private was calm. “Doc, what’s been hurt? Tell me. Tell me how I can fix you, alright? I can do it, but only if you talk to me. You’ll be fine. Tell me where I can find things I need, alright?” After a while Bambi searched through Blake’s musette bag, obviously finding what Blake said he should look for and then there was a shouting next to Dean.

“Sir!” Sergeant Shurley, their other medic stood next to him, Morphine syringe ready in his hand. Dean acknowledge him before turning to Private Redfield,  “Alright, Sneezy, hold the fire. Gotta get Bambi out!” Then he turned to Shurley and nodded at him. “Sneezy, go!” Sneezy started to fire with a bunch of new privates.

Dean sped along with Shurley in a crouching run and Shurley took over. “It’s alright Private, I got this. You get out of here!” Dean pulled Bambi up, pushing and moving him to the other side of the street. He put his hands on the privates shoulders and smashed him harsh against a concrete wall.

He shouted and there were so many things going through his head at that moment, but when he looked at the private, he saw the red in his eyes and fuck, they were so big. “Fucking hell, private! What the fuck were you thinking? Leave it to the medics!”

“But there wasn’t one around. I wanted to help!”

He talked back, and Dean wished he didn’t. He pushed Bambi further against the concrete, trapping the private between the wall and his body and lowered his head to the level of the small private. He was furious. Angry at Bambi but also angry at himself. Why did he let the private get under his skin? It has been a little more than a fucking week since he showed up and Dean’s mind had been all over the place since.

Dean tried. He tried to not look at Bambi. Tried to not let his mind wander to the wide eyes that were strangely able to calm him down. Tried not to let his gaze wander down to the full lips that he wanted desperately to kiss himself stupid on. Tried with all his might not to just fucking do it. He blinked a couple of times, shaking the thought out of his head, but there was Bambi, all wet and flushed and he could even see the faint freckles on the bridge of Bambi’s nose.

“Let me make this perfectly clear, private. You do what I tell you. That’s the only way I can keep you alive. I’m going to make sure that you’re on sentry for fucking 6 hours tonight and the night after because then you’ll be tired and not able to pull that shit on me again. You hear me? If you do that again, I’ll get you on latrine duty from here on out until we march into Germany. I fucking swear!” Dean punched at the concrete with his bare hands, right next to Bambi’s face, but Bambi did not even flinch. 

 

***

 

**August 4th, 1944**

As promised, Dean put Bambi on sentry for three full shifts, and when Dean woke up from his three hours of uncomfortable sleep, he decided that he was going to write to Sam. The time neared Oh-four-hundred. Reveille was at Oh-five-hundred and Bambi still had an hour to go.

_Dear Sergeant Sam,_

_Is that right? Did I write it right, huh, bitch? Congrats, I guess! No shit, really, so proud of you, Sammy!_

_How are you? I hope won’t promote you again too soon. The fame is slowly getting in your head, Sam. To me, you’re still the brother who ran up to me crying with a snot running down your nose because you were upset that a girl kissed your cheek. I said that you should man up, didn’t I? Thank god, imagine you’d still be scared of girls now._

_Sam, I don’t even know how to put this in words. I kind of screwed up, I think. I told you about Bambi, right? Well, he and I, we, ah forget it. Forget what I just wrote. It doesn’t matter. What matters that he fucking managed to piss me off, and I put him up for three shifts of sentry. That’s what you get when you piss of your platoon leader. So, fyi, never do that, ok, Sam? Bambi did it without even a groan tho, I highly doubt that you’d do that. So don’t piss off your leader, because I am afraid that I’ll never hear the end of it when you write and rant to me._

_We lost Blake today. Our medic. Now we’re just down to two medics for a hundred-odd men. I don’t know but, it wasn’t supposed to be like this, no? I was wondering, would you have signed up if you knew that was going to happen? I certainly wouldn’t. I thought that I could keep them all alive. Well, see where that got me? Almost lost Bambi too (that’s why he’s on sentry). My hands were shaking at the thought, Sam. My hand are always steady. I don’t know what’s happening to me, but I feel like, if I lose the kid, I will lose you, I will lose everything. It’s not supposed to be like that, is it? I shouldn’t feel that way towards anyone of them. It’s war and yeah, I should fucking get my act together._

_We’ll be taking Vire soon. I can feel it. I hope you’re good, bitch!_

_Lieutenant Dean Winchester_

 

Jamie sat at the end of the harbor. It was her and Dopey, who probably picked a short straw and end up having to do the most hated sentry shift with her. Dopey looked over the north while she covered the south of their harbor position. It wasn’t pretty big, so it was ok.

She stared down at her hands, still deep red from Sergeant Blake’s blood. There was not soap around to clean it off properly. Her hands were trembling. It was the first time that she saw someone die right in front of her. She could see how the life drained out of Blake’s eyes and there was nothing she could have done to stop him from dying. It hit her then, that people die in this war and they keep on dying. People she liked and came to care about.

Jamie wished she had someone to talk about it. She wished that she could write to her brothers, but she don’t know where they are since she wasn’t even home when they all got scattered around Europe.

She heard footsteps approaching and listened. She didn’t have the energy to even turn around.

“You alright, private?” Lieutenant Winchester came closer, a metal mug of coffee in his hand. She could smell it from a couple of feet away and she was sure that it tasted delicious too. Like the whiskey tinted air that he exhaled. Fuck, no, she should’ve stopped thinking about what happened. Poor guy probably already thought that he’s going crazy, and it was never her intention to put doubt into her leader’s head.

Lieutenant Winchester walked closer and sat on the stone next to her. “You want some?”

“I’m on sentry, sir.” She wasn’t looking at him. She didn’t want to see the green in his eyes and the freckles on his face and the ruffled hair from sleep or the way his lips crooked when he smiles.

Lieutenant Winchester started to laugh then. “Shit, Bambi, you take this way too seriously!” He looked back at the bodies of men that were slowly rising out of their foxholes. “Look around, they’re all up. Sentry’s almost over anyway.”

Jamie looked over then and it was a mistake because she got lost in the eyes and how can someone look so cute with sleep still hanging in their eyes? “Can I?” She asked, looking at the coffee and he shrugged before he offered her the mug.

Lieutenant Winchester patted at his combat jacket, searching and finding his cigarette tin. Pulling it out, he asked if Jamie wanted one, but she declined. “I’m still not smoking, sir.”

“You’re going to use them for trading?”

“No, actually, I’m giving them away to people who run out of them.”

“Gosh, you’re a saint, ain’t ya?” It wasn’t degrading. It sound like he really meant it. But she didn’t answer. They sat side by side. Listening to the other men rise and probably shine.

Jamie took another sip of the warm coffee before she gave it back to Lieutenant Winchester, not wanting to be rude and drink it all. “Thank you. And I’m sorry.” She didn’t elaborate and hoped that he will know what she’s sorry about.

“Me too.” He said, blowing out smoke and stubbed his cigarette on the stone before he flickered it away. He took his mug in one hand and rubbed at his thighs in his damp combats with the other. He watched her, and Jamie nervously fidgeted at the rifle lying in her lap with her hands. They were still trembling.

Lieutenant Winchester saw them. Saw the dried blood and dirt still sticking to the back of her hand. He put his hand on hers and she stalled. He covered his big hands around her trembling small ones, and he painted soothing circles on the knuckles of her thumb. He began to speak after a while. “I should have never let you get under my skin,” he paused to take another sip of his coffee. “It’s just… you remind me so much of Sam.”

Jamie nodded. She still didn’t know who Sam was, but Sam was a lucky girl.

He took another sip before he talked again, his voice soft and deep. “I’m sorry about how..you know.. in that foxhole. You should know. I’m not… you know.”

“I know.” She said, looking downcast.

“But I’m not sorry about putting you on sentry. I’ve lost too many people already. I don’t need you undermining me and get yourself killed. Alright?”

“Yes, sir.” She had tears in her eyes, and she didn’t even know why. She turned away, she didn’t want him to see.

“You’re scared.” He said, his voice deep and smooth. “I am too. I thought I’d lose you too and that would’ve be on me. Again. History repeats itself and I’m just sick of it. Sorry I snapped.”

Jamie didn’t know why he’s telling her this. He was a Lieutenant. He shouldn’t care so much about his men. He was there to give orders and they were there to follow them. “You’re doing good, sir. You’re keeping us alive. Or at least you try.” She tried to lift up his mood.

“Right. Remember your words, private. About me doing good, I mean.” He forced out a smile before he stood up. “Go get ready, we’ll be moving out again soon.”

Jamie didn’t move. Not yet. She would have rather sat there a little longer, waiting until her hands would stop trembling.


	6. Chapter 6

**August 6th, 1944**

 

Baker pushed forwards into Vire, covering the lower ground and they needed to be quick. Intel had it that the tanks would roll down from the east and their orders were to clear the west flanks. If the tanks caught them on time, they’d be fucked, but if they were lucky, the tanks would be the problem of Able and Charlie companies. For now, they need to push forward. 

And that, they did. 

Unfaltering, moving along the lines they discussed beforehand. Dean’s platoon will fall back, setting up a base of fire so the other platoons could advance, holding out the tanks as long as they could.

 

Dean crouched down in formation with Harvelle and Private Rosen in the front line. He looked back, spotting Bambi in the third line, wedged between privates Campbell and Fitzgerald. Bambi doesn’t looked frightened at all and just as Dean thought that his calm demeanor was weird, a mortar comes screaming over their heads, landing a mere 40 yards behind Bambi and takes out two other privates.

 

“Shit! Richardson and Turner!” Another private shouted and one private who’s name Dean didn’t have the chance to remember, since he’d just been replaced a day ago, was curled up in a fetal position, crying as dust and smoke rose up from the ground.

 

“Get him! Move, move! That alley! Regroup!” Dean pointed to the nearest alley, between buildings with bombed out windows and his platoon scrambled up, following him. He could hear Mills shouting as the captain moved forward with Three platoon.

 

“Advance! Keep moving!” Captain Mills was heard screaming of the top of his lungs. “Winchester! Stay behind, we’re moving forward!”

 

“Copy, Sir!” Dean shouted back as he ran. 

Once they all assembled in the alley, Dean spoke. “Alright, listen close.” He turned to his men and took a knee. “The other platoons are advancing deeper into Vire. We’re clearing the back for them. I want you all scatter around, here, here, here, and here.” He pointed at the map that he fished out of his webbing. “Work in groups. 5 max. Take the upper floors, you can see better from there. Fire through holes in the walls. Get them!” Dean looked around. The fear on the new privates faces were visible, especially after seeing their friend being blasted beyond recognition, but Dean didn’t have the time, nor did he had the patience to babysit them right now. “I want Trenton and Bambi going up here.” He pointed to the highest building around. It used to be a clock tower, only with less clock now. “Aim at the Krauts who operate the incoming 20mm. Intel said there were several around. There will be tanks rolling in too. Keep your eyes out. If you can’t beat them, take cover, displace and advance to the other platoons. I want to destroy them, but I also want y’all safe. Alright?”

 

“Aye, Sir!” Tran shouted and was already out the door with his group of men.

 

Bambi turned to run out, but before he could exit Dean caught the private by his arm. “Don’t get dead.” He said, his voice lower than the commands he just gave.

 

“I won’t, Lieutenant.” Bambi smiled a brave smile at him. He wanted to say more, but his men were already scattering. Getting out of the building and disappear to where they need to be. Where he told them to be.

 

Dean stayed back on the ground, watching with Harvelle beside him. Their rifles pulled tightly into their shoulders, ready to shoot. Sure enough, there was a 20mm rolling in with three Germans who were operating it, followed by what looked like platoon of men. Not more than they were. Dean could hear the rumble of tanks but they were still far away. He guessed that they still had time.

 

The first hiss of rounds cut through the air, it came from Bambi’s position and he could hear one Kraut after another drop off the 20mm with a scream. _Good job. Really, good job, Bambi._

 

The German platoon broke through, and Dean’s men successfully diverted them, shooting at them with precision. Taking them down one by one until there were none of them left.

 

“Shit.” Harvelle let out a breathe as he saw the tanks rolling in. Gurgling and hissing angrily, as they destroyed everything in their way, even the bodies of their own dead men. “Sir, we gotta go!”

 

They made it out of their hiding place and as they thought, there were no German soldiers around. He could only spot tanks after tanks streaming down the narrow street. Fuck. “Displace! Displace! Move forward!” Dean shouted himself hoarse, trying to be louder than the rumbling of the incoming tanks.

 

They need to get forward, there was nothing they could do against the tanks. Able and Charlie company were probably less than a mile away - still it was too far. They would deal with the tanks, since they had the 88s with them. Besides, the RAF should have been there by then with their tank busters.  _Where the fuck were they?_  It seemed like since Omaha, people were never where they were supposed to be.

 

Harvelle and him watched, as the men scrambled out of their hiding places, and ran toward the other platoons. Dean urged them on, staying behind, counting and yelling at them to fucking get out of the buildings and move forward.

 

Buildings were blown up left and right in a blinding light. Dean and Harvelle hid, pressing their bodies into the concrete wall, as not to be in the sight of the tanks.

 

They watched as a shot was fired from up high, taking out the commander of a tank who happened to look out of the hatch. “Shit, no, Bambi!” Dean muttered under his breath. Bambi would blow his cover. Dean cursed the young private through clenched teeth, and there it was. The tank’s pipe lifted up, pointing straight to the position of Bambi. Trenton, Dean, and Harvelle were all screaming on the top of their lungs  _Come down! Get the fuck down already!_ when the tank fired and destroyed the top half of the tower.

 

_Fuck!_

Dean was seeing red and he knew that it was stupid, maybe even the stupidest thing he’s ever done. Sam would be fucking mad at him, but he had to take the chance.

 

There was just this one lone tank, waiting for the other tanks to catch up, and Dean knew that he had to do it. He had no other choice. “Harvelle! Grenade!” Dean shouted as he broke into a run toward the first tank. It was as if they rehearsed it before, because Harvelle knew exactly what to do. He followed Dean without question.

 

Dean reached the very tank that destroyed the tower, and he climbed on it in black rage, aiming his rifle into the slit in the front of the tank and began to shoot. Harvelle threw him the grenade in time and he yanked at the pin with his teeth before he dropped it into the porthole that was still slightly open from the dead body of the Kraut’s tank commander. Dean pushed the body inside and closed it.

 

“Go go go!” He shouted to Harvelle as he jumped down from the tank. Dean landed weirdly and he felt a sharp pain. He needed to run but he wasn’t quick enough, and the tank exploded behind him. The bust pushed him forward, sending him headfirst into dust and gravel. Apart from the pain in his ankle, he felt a pain on his temple, where his helmet wasn’t sitting right, and his shoulder.

 

“Come on, Winchester!” Harvelle picked him up, threw Dean’s arm around his shoulder and dragged him to cover. They hid some yards away, in an alleyway between two buildings as they heard the rumbles of more incoming tanks.

 

“Fuck, Harvelle, get yourself out of here, I’ll be alright, get your fucking ass to the others.” Dean said breathlessly as he sat down on the ground with his back leaned against the building. He was in pain and he knew that he was bleeding. He panted and his lungs burned with every breath from inhaling too much smoke and dust.

 

“Yeah, how about no, Sir.” Harvelle replied and then jogged to the beginning of the alley to check if they’ve been followed. “Hey! Fucking hell, you lucky sons of bitches!” Dean could hear Harvelle say. He closed his eyes to focus on his breathing, and hoped that Harvelle found someone who could help them out of their misery.

 

Harvelle came running back. “Bambi and Trenton, Sir. They are ok.”

 

Dean opened his eyes to catch Harvelle’s gaze. He smiled weakly.  _Thank fucking Christ._

“Shit, Sir, you alright?” Bambi was running over, taking a knee next to Dean and god, was he relieved to see that damn kid. 

 

“I’m fine. Go find the others.” Dean waved him off. He knew that they probably wouldn’t do what he asked of them. At least he knew that Bambi definitely wouldn’t, he saw that look in his eyes. Defiance. He looked like Sam.  

 

Bambi looked up at Harvelle and Trenton. “You two go. I’ll stay here with the Lieutenant. Send people back when you can!”

“Since when do you give orders?” Dean growled and he chuckled a little. “Fucking hell, Bambi.” 

 

Harvelle just nodded at Bambi and Trenton and they jogged away, leaving Bambi alone with Dean.

 

“Medic! Medic!” Bambi shouted out before he took the knee next to Dean again, inspecting the wound on his face.

“Fucking hell, you’ll get us both killed, calling out for a medic when the tanks are coming in!” 

 

“Well, Sir, then let me see and don’t be a lil’ bitch about it, alright?” Bambi’s hands worked the strap of Dean’s helmet, taking it off. He dropped it next to him. Dean saw Bambi’s eyes stalling at the photograph tucked inside of it for just a moment, but then his hand was on Dean’s face, the private’s fingers tracing along the sharp pain near his temple.

 

“Bambi, you should go. You’ll get yourself killed. You can still make it out. Just leave me here.” Dean said quietly, searching his privates face.

 

“With all due respect, sir,” Bambi searched through his webbing until he found a cloth and dabbed it at Dean’s temple. “Shut the fuck up.”

 

“If I shouldn’t make it, tell Sam that I -“ Dean started to say, almost too dramatically.

 

“You can tell Sam yourself, Sir!” Bambi cut him off sharply.

 

“No, no. Listen. You’ve got to tell him that he should stop being a bitch.”

 

Bambi looked at him with a frown. “Him?”

 

Dean chuckled at the word, raising an eyebrow, and wincing from the pain that shot through his forehead. “Yeah, Sam. My brother.”

“Oh,” It was a short exhale, but Bambi went on. “Sir, why don’t you tell him yourself.” He inspected Dean’s wounds. “Shrapnel wound, you’re lucky it just grazed you. What else.” Bambi touched the place where blood was seeping through Dean’s combat on his shoulder. 

 

And then his fingers worked on Dean’s jacket, pulling it open and tugging it down to see. “Splitter graze. Fuck, Sir. You’re one lucky son of a bitch!”

 

“Takes one to know one, private.” Dean couldn’t help but smile. “It’s the ankle that hurts like a motherfucker.”

 

Bambi’s hand zipped up Dean’s combat jacket again, before he handed Dean back his helmet, his fingers traced along Dean’s jaw, and Dean stalled. His gaze flickered to Bambi’s big eyes, the full lips and he was so fucking glad that Bambi wasn’t dead. Bambi’s fingers picked at the dirt around the wound of his temple and Dean yelped out something incoherent. “You’ll live, Sir.”

 

“Is that so?” A lopsided grin crept on Dean’s face. “You sure about that, doc?” And there it was again, the eyeroll that he provoked. It was actually so fucking sweet that Dean’s heart started to flutter.

 

Bambi was kneeling in between Dean’s legs and held up the helmet above his head. “You ok to put it on? Wouldn’t want the picture to get all dusty, Sir.”

 

Dean felt a pang of guilt. He didn’t want Bambi to think that it was a picture of a sweetheart he had at home. Even though he knows that it shouldn’t matter because it’s not Bambi’s place to know shit about him but still, he felt weird. For reasons unknown to him, he didn’t want Bambi to think there was a picture of a girl in his helmet. “You wanna see it?” He asked Bambi.

He paused, his lips pressed together as if in thought, but after a moment Bambi nodded. 

 

“Go ahead, take it out.” Dean said, watching him.

 

The sound of tanks were still loud in the streets, but they weren’t shooting. They just rolled on, searching for a target.

 

Bambi put the helmet in between the two of them, tipped it over and took out the photograph. He unfolded it with shaking hands. Dean wanted to stop them from trembling. He watched as Bambi’s eyes trailed along the photograph. “That little shithead on the right? That’s Sam. My brother. The girl in the middle is our neighbor from back home. And that handsome fella on the left? That’s me.”

 

“He’s handsome.” Bambi said, grinning. And Dean felt a stinging in his heart and a strange feeling in his gut. “I meant, Sam.” Bambi added and Dean had to laugh.

“Ah, fuck off.” Dean said, wanting to get up, but there was a sharp pain in his ankle again.

 

Bambi neatly folded the photograph and tucked it back into Dean’s helmet. “And that girl? She’s your sweetheart?” Dean couldn’t help but notice that Bambi wasn’t able to look him in the eyes as he asked him the question.

 

“No. She probably wants to be because she sent me that photograph, but I haven’t replied to a single letter.” Bambi’s shoulders seemed to relax at that. Maybe Dean was imagining it, but it seemed that he let out a breath he was holding.

 

“You should, Sir. At least she’ll know what’s going on.”

“Yeah, yeah… Maybe if we get out of here alive, I will.” Dean said and then he put his hand on Bambi’s trembling fingers. “Hey, what’s wrong?” He could see the tears in Bambi’s eyes. 

Bambi shook his head, trying to swallow the tears. “Nothing. It’s just… probably thankful that we’re alive. Even though we don’t know if we’ll live to see the night.”

 

“Hey! Shhh. We’re fine, alright.” Dean tugged Bambi towards him with his good arm, his hand curled around the back of Bambi’s neck as he made Bambi look him in the eye. “Look at me! We’re fine. Everything’s going to be ok.” Dean didn’t know why, but he wanted to believe it himself.

They were so close again, Bambi’s big eyes that were full of tears and his nose that turned redder by the minute from desperately trying to hold back his tears. There was just something about him in that moment that made Dean want to kiss him. A breath hitched in his throat. Maybe it was also the fear of the imminent. What if they should die right there in that moment? What then? Wouldn’t he want to know how it felt to kiss Bambi? Even though he wasn’t fucking queer. He wasn’t. Had never been. But there was something about Bambi that made him question the state of his sexuality. Made him question everything. 

 

He craned his neck and there it was, the lips that were smooth and soft against his chipped ones. Dean closed his eyes, his hand snaking around the back of Bambi’s neck. Dean pulled the small private closer, and to Dean’s surprise, Bambi parted his lips a little, an open invitation for Dean to lick into his mouth and taste him. Dean gently explored Bambi’s mouth, his tongue licked along the roof, their tongues twisting together in a dance made just for the two of them. It was as close to perfect as Dean would have ever thought. Bambi moved closer, his knees in between Dean’s thighs and it rubbed against his growing bulge, the pressure of it made his head spin, and Dean moaned into the kiss.

Bambi shifted and there was a pain at his shoulder that pulled both of them back to reality. 

“Fuck! Shit! Sorry… I’m… shit, Bambi, sorry.” Dean apologized and Bambi turned his face away, his lips swollen and his face flushed, and all Dean wanted was to kiss him again. 

 

Bambi cleared his throat and got up, he didn’t say anything and continued with a flawless professionalism. “Come on sir, can you try to get up? Gonna try to get you out of here.” He said and reached out a hand for Dean to take.

 

“Yeah, sure.” He said, fetching his helmet. He put it on before he took Bambi’s hand and let the small private pull him up.

Sure enough as they made their way to the entrance of the alley, with Dean’s arm around Bambi’s shoulder, they heard roaring in the sky. Dean looked up to see four tank busters soaring above them, dropping bombs that made the ground shake underneath their feet. Dean glanced down at Bambi with a smile. “Guess we’ll live a little longer, Bambi, huh?” 

 

***

 

**August 8th, 1944**

 

They captured Vire yesterday. That was a freaking win, Dean guessed, but it came with a price. Captain Mills was shot through the stomach and his lungs collapsed before they could get him to a medical tent. The two remaining medics from their company tried to keep the captain alive, but due to heavy bombardments, there was just nothing they could have done. So much for keeping Mills alive until he would present them with Hitler’s head on a stick. Dean had failed again.

 

Dean was supposed to be the next in command, but due to his wounds and his sprained ankle, the Major saw him more of a burden and unfit to lead a whole company. He could be glad the Major let him keep his platoon. The honor was passed on to Castiel Novak and Dean’d never been so fucking relieved before in his life. Cas was a good choice. He’d be able to lead them. Maybe even to victory. He had faith, especially in Cas.

 

The whole company was taken off the front line for a while and being assigned to V Corps. They would sure be signed back into VIII Corps soon, but Dean was taking advantage of the little free time he had. They had running water, hot meals, and a fucking roof over their head. There was really nothing more he could have asked for. Well… except of one thing. If Bambi could get out of his head, that’d be fucking great, thank you.

 

_Dear Sam,_

_We’ve captured Vire, but yeah, you can thank me later. I almost died, though. Nah, only a joke…_

_Shit! It’s really just a joke, Sammy. Don’t worry alright? I’m fine. Still breathing and shit. Walking and talking, too, don’t worry. Well, I sprained my ankle, so walking is a bit straining, but I’ll get there. We’ve been pulled into reserve, and I think when the time comes I’ll be able to move out with my platoon. I got wounds though. Even had to have stitches on my shoulder. But I’ll live. So, I guess that’s good news. You wanna hear bad news? Mills is out. Shit, Sam. I failed again._

_My sprained ankle means though, that I’m not taking over Baker. Cas will. He’s good. I trust him._

_Other than that, everything’s fine. I’m fine. Well, I have maybe done something stupid. I need to get my shit together, I guess. But don’t worry, nothing serious. Just… no, forget it. It’s really not important._

_I hope you’re good, Sam. I miss you. Almost thought I’d never fucking see you again._

_Lieutenant Dean Winchester_

 

**August 9th, 1944**

 

Jamie’s hands were shaking. Maybe she should have eaten something at breakfast, or at lunch. She just didn’t have any appetite. Guess seeing your friends being blown up does things to you. She was sitting around the campfire with her platoon and they talk about their sweethearts at home and about the letters they got but Bambi isn’t really listening. She couldn’t concentrate on anything else than keeping her hands steady.

“Bambi, you listening?” Tran asked as he saw that she was lost in her thoughts.

Jamie blinked herself back to reality and saw the cup of coffee Tran offered her. “No thanks.” She politely declined and Tran just shrugged and drank it himself. Jamie doesn’t think that she should be drinking more caffeine when she’s shaking. Clearly that wouldn’t calm her nerves. She longs for that whiskey Lieutenant Winchester once offered her.

Lieutenant Dean Winchester. Fuck. Only then die she think about what happened before they took Vire. What happened in that alley and it all came back to her. She fucked up. She literally did the only thing Jim asked of her. But in her defense. Winchester is quite handsome. She lost herself in his green eyes and then he was so close and the freckles that shimmered through the dust and dirt on his face were mesmerizing. She couldn’t do anything else than lean in and when she kissed him, she felt like she wasn’t here. There was no war. All was forgotten. It was as if his kissed made her feel alive again. Feel hope.

“Good afternoon.” A voice broke the murmur and Lieutenant was standing behind her and her body went rigid.

“How’s everyone doing?” He asked around and there were shouts of Fine. Great, sir. Couldn’t be better. and then when she thought that he was going to leave, he turned towards her. “And you?”

“Fine, sir.”

“I haven’t seen you eating anything all day. Make sure you eat at dinner, alright?” He didn’t wait for her answer and turned himself around to limp away.

“Shit, Bambi. You haven’t eaten?” Tran shouted and she shook her head as Tran closed the distance between them. “You better eat something at dinner, alright? Make sure he sees it too.”


	7. Chapter 7

**August 12th, 1944**

“We’ll be moving out in the next few days. Get your men ready, get some training, double it if you must. Anything to get the men used to being in the front line again. Any questions?” Lieutenant Novak looked around the room, searching their faces to see nobody objecting. “You’re dismissed.” Novak, the new CO of Baker company, said, nodding at his men.

Dean turned around trying to make a quick escape, when Castiel singled him out. “Dean?”

“Yeah?”

“How’s your ankle?”

“It’s fine. Cas, I’m fine, don’t you worry.” It wasn’t a lie. It was so much better already. Dean only hoped that it would be good enough come the time to move out.

“You’d tell me if there’s anything alright?”

“I will.”

“How’s Bambi?” The question was sudden, Castiel’s blue eyes flickered to Dean. Dean swallowed hard, his throat dry. He wondered if Cas knew.

He frowned at Cas, raising an eyebrow. “What’s with Bambi?”

“I mean, how much do you need him in your platoon, because as you know, I lost a lot of men in two and three platoons. I could use him there.” Cas looked at him, unfaltering.

_Shit, he really meant it._

“I’m sorry, Cas, but Bambi is not up for discussion. He’s valuable to my platoon, too.” Dean knew that Cas was the CO. He knew that if Cas wanted Bambi in another platoon, he could just fucking do it, and Dean could do nothing against it. His only hope was that Cas was still his friend and would act like it. He always used to consult him and thought highly of Dean.

“That’s what I thought.” Cas lowered his gaze and fished out a cigarette tin from his webbing before he flickered open the tin and tugged a cigarette between his teeth. “Just wanted to ask.”

“Sure.” Dean nodded, and made his way out with his hands full of mail from home.

Dean made his rounds, dropping the mail off to his men. They eagerly tore open the envelopes, swallowing down the words they read. Some of them laughed, some of them had tears in their eyes.

He saw Bambi, sitting by the fire, his gaze fixed on the flames that were dancing, making his face light up in a warm glow. Looking at the fires reflection in his large eyes made Dean shift his weight, he decided that there was no time like the present to talk to Bambi. Talk about what happened on that day in the alley. Clear the air. He avoided it for too long already and hell, he still had to work with the guy.  He wanted it out of the way. Dean wasn’t really a poster child for healthy communication, he knew that, but he was a leader in the damn war and he needed to act like one.

“Sir, anything else?” Harvelle asked eyeing Dean when he didn’t react to their questions. To be frank, he didn’t even realize they were talking to him.

Dean blinked. “Huh? No. As you were.”

The soldiers went on with their duties, some were cleaning their weapons, some opted to write back to their families and sweethearts.

“Bambi,” He approached the small private who still watched the flames and cupped a metal mug in his hand.

“Sir?” He was at attention immediately, like he’d being drilled in Basic, and then when Bambi looked at Dean, the small private grinned.

Dean put a hand on the private’s shoulder. “Everything ok?”

“Uh..Fine.” Bambi put down his coffee. “Just lost in thoughts, sir.”

It was almost funny, Dean thought. Bambi’d been lost in thoughts and Dean’d been lost in him.

He was curious what Bambi was thinking about. Was he thinking about what happened in the alley? Maybe he thought about it as much as Dean was? Because even if Dean didn’t want to think about it anymore, the last thing on his mind before he laid himself to sleep is of the private’s gentle lips and how they felt on his.

“Can I talk to you for a minute?” Dean asked him, squeezing his shoulder a little, and Bambi looked up to him. Bambi’s grin was gone, but he nodded. “Let’s take a walk.” Dean suggested and began to walk ahead.

Bambi caught up to him quickly, and was soon walking beside him, his hand in his pockets.

“You sure you alright?” Dean asked after a while as they took a turn into a street which was less busy. Abandoned and destroyed buildings left and right of them.

“Sir, I’m fine.”

 _I’m fine._ Dean knew that saying. It meant that nothing was fine, but he’d take it and didn’t ask more.

Dean needed to be somewhere more private for him to talk to Bambi about what happened. He knew that he couldn’t risk someone eavesdropping on them, because the last thing he needed was being thrown into jail for being queer - which he was not.

He tried and opened up the next door he found that was still in its hinge and peeked inside. When he saw that it was clear, he opened up enough for Bambi to step in and Bambi did it without questioning him.

Bambi stood in the room, turning to face Dean as he closed the door behind him.

Dean took a step closer to the private. His heart was pounding out of his chest and he didn’t even know why. He felt blood rushing through his head and he couldn’t hear anything other than the drumming of his heart that, by the growing smirk on Bambi’s full lips, he assumed that Bambi could hear it too.

Dean cleared his throat before he spoke.

“Listen,” He started to say and took a deep breathe. Hell, he’d been practicing before. He had this whole speech prepared to tell to Bambi; had his words carefully arranged to tell the private that he was not queer and the kiss was a mistake and he didn’t mean to; but it seemed like now, his mind was blank.  

“I’m listening, Lieutenant.” Bambi was still smirking. He didn’t wear a helmet for once. They didn’t have to around there, and Dean could see that the private’s hair was slowly growing out. It was sticking out a bit over his ears, and it looked really cute on him.

Dean shook his head.  _No, shit…_  he couldn’t think that the private was cute. Especially then. Not when he was supposed to be shutting it down. 

Dean swallowed again. “I..uh.. I wanted to talk to you about what happened.”

“What  _did_ happen, Sir?” Bambi raised an eyebrow with a grin.

_That stupid grin._

“Bambi, the kiss.” Dean hissed. Bambi was clearly fucking with him and Dean was slowly growing impatient.

“Oh,  _that_ …” The private had his lips in a tight line, his cheeks puffed out as if he’s trying to hold back a laughter.

“Look, I’m really not queer,” Heat rose up Dean’s neck and cheeks, his heart still beating fast and he thought,  _well, I’m really not?_  “It was a mistake.”

“A mistake…  _huh_!” Bambi exhaled the  _huh_ empathetically, raising an eyebrow at Dean again, paired with a frown. “And there I thought that you were in love with me, Lieutenant.”

Dean gasped, his eyes widening. It felt like the air had been punched out of his lungs.

The private’s face turned red from holding in his laughter.

“Just kidding.” Bambi doubled over, laughing hard then. He gathered his breath and he looked at Dean smugly after he composed himself.

He exhaled and tried not to look into Bambi’s big doe eyes. Instead, he looked at Bambi’s boots. “We shouldn’t. It won’t happen again.”

“Sure,” Bambi shrugged nonchalantly and it drove Dean nuts. Why was the private shitting him? Did he not realize how serious it was? What was at stake?

Bambi was standing in the middle of the room, a wicked grin on his face and even though Dean said that it won’t happen again, all he could think about now was that he wanted it to happen again. He wanted to just grab the privates soft cheeks and smash his lips against Bambi’s pink and plum ones.

Dean balanced his weight from one foot to another. His ankle is doing much much better already.

“I’m really not… you know, interested… in men.” Dean muttered half heartedly, taking a step towards the small private to try to intimidate him.

“Me neither.” Bambi was still grinning very arrogantly, when he too, took a step towards Dean. Unfazed by Dean’s demeanor.

“But the kiss,” Dean began, as he took another step. All of a sudden his mouth felt too dry and he licked his lip deliberately.

“What kiss?” Bambi asked when he took another step and then the private echoed Dean’s lip licking and he flashed his teeth and  _fuck_ … Dean’s heart picked up speed. The private’s lips were slick and shiny and it looked more kissable than before.

“Bambi! Focus!” Dean was now so close to the small private and he could smell the coffee Bambi just drank a moment before when the private let out a deep breath.

“Oh..,” The private’s lips curled up into a grin. “You mean  _that_ kiss!” Bambi giggled and Dean really didn’t know how he should react to that until Bambi added “It was a nice kiss, sir.”

 

And if Dean was blushing before, he was a tomato now. He swallowed the lump that built up in his throat as he tried to form something coherent to say. Something he could come up with as an answer to that, but Dean’s brain failed him once more. _It was a nice kiss_. Before Dean even realized what he was doing, he scooped Bambi up into his arms and smashed his mouth against Bambi’s.

Bambi hooked his feet at Dean’s back and his arm around Dean’s neck, clinging to Dean and opened his mouth for Dean to lick into. He walked the couple of steps to the next wall and pushed Bambi against it while he kissed the private hungrily, his tongue tasting the familiar taste of burnt coffee. Bambi moaned into Dean’s mouth as he nibbled at Dean’s bottom lip with his sharp teeth.

The kiss was all tongue and teeth. Raw and sweet at the same time, and Dean groaned as Bambi sucked in his tongue, making him forgetting his own damn name.

Bambi cupped Dean’s cheek, his tongue pushing against the roof of Dean’s mouth and Dean ground his hips up, searching for friction the private would provide him, but then something was not right.

Dean stopped dead in his tracks. Pulling his face away from the private. His bulge would have met another bulge when he ground his hips up, but there was no resistance. Nothing. Nix.

Dean’s eye widened as he looked into those big eyes of Bambi. He was met by a stupid grin on the private’s face. “What the fuck?” Dean muttered out of breath, his forehead resting on Bambi’s as his gaze travel down between them.

Bambi giggled then and Dean started to blush more and more.

“Bambi, what’s going on? Where’s your fucking dick?” Dean can’t believe he would ever say a sentence like this in his life.

“Uh..I guess I left it back in Trenton, sir.” There was a cheeky wink and Dean didn’t know if he should punch the private or kiss Bambi stupid for that. He was confused and as of yet, undecided.

“What the fuck is going on? Are you… wait, no.” Dean shook his head, not sure what was going on and he was irritated to say the least.

“Come on, sir. You really didn’t notice? You’re a smart man. Come on now, show me that you can put two and two together.” Bambi cupped Dean’s cheek again, making Dean look at him. His brow furrowed but the private’s thumb painting circles on his scruff and strange enough, it calmed him down and put him at ease.

Dean searched his brain, trying to put two and two together.

“Fuck! No shit!”

There it was. The realization that hit him like a freight train and Bambi laughed at him now before she pecked his lips again, and Dean muttered underneath her lips. “How did you get in?”

“Lieutenant, you just have to know one thing,” She said, her eyes glistening in the dim light of the room as she winked at him and smiled ever so sweetly. “Never, ever, underestimated me.”

And then Dean rested his forehead back on hers and chuckled out a “Yes, Ma’am.” before he bumped their noses together.

Bambi kissed him again now, and this time, the kiss was different. It wasn’t laced with a weird feeling of doubt, fear and uncertainty anymore. It was more passionate, more sweet, demanding even. Dean broke the kiss just to be able to breath and look at her again. “Fuck, what are you doing to me?” He murmured, kissing her cheeks and down along her jaw to bury his face in the crook of her neck. “As much as I want to spend more time with you, Bambi, but I think we need to get back.”

Bambi giggled before Dean let her down. They’ve been away for too long and it’s close to dinner time. There would be another opportunity where they would have more time together, Dean was sure of that. Even if it would mean that Dean needed to convince Cas to double up sentry.

Dean tried to rearrange his combats to conceal the straining bulge that he wished he could act upon, before he looked at how she straighten her jacket. “But hey, I told you that I wasn’t queer, didn’t I?”

“Yeah, sure.” She laughed at him with a shrug, “Told ya I wasn’t queer either.”

Dean opened the door for her but pulled her back by her arm before she could step out and kissed her one last time. He couldn’t get enough of her, Dean knew that much and maybe it would be his downfall.

They talked on the way back to the campfire.  _No, of course she doesn’t want anyone to find out and she’ll rip Dean a new one should he tell it to anyone._ Dean made a mental note of that, because he was sure that Bambi would be true to her words.

 _No, she doesn’t want for him to send her home._ It’s not that he didn’t try to tell her that he could send her home with a lame excuse.

 _No, she doesn’t want special treatment, but she was glad that the secret was out so at least she had someone who knew why she might not want to do things with the others._ She explained why she did it and her motives were sincere. Dean would have done the same if he was her. Hell, he was sure that he probably would. Knowing that Sam was out there and he had to sit at home because he was a damn girl? Nah, he would have done the same or at least he would have tried. He probably wouldn’t have come that far.

 

They parted and when she walked back to her friends, Dean watched her go. He was glad that he really wasn’t queer because damn, how could he tell Sam about that one. He was glad that he didn’t have to. But on the other hand, there was a new problem. Bambi was a freaking girl. A girl that he liked and fuck, he didn’t want to get attached during war, but  _he gets what he gets_ , right?

 

 

 

“And there was this broad, right? Fuck, her hips as wide as my shoulders,” Trenton was telling them about a conquest in England and they were all grinning, including Jamie. They all knew that Trenton was all talk, but they let him because his stories were amusing. Now, Jamie was there that night, and she knew exactly what happened but she kept mum.

Trenton went on, “Fucking child bearing hips, man, and all I thought was that I wanted to give her the children she deserved because those hips should have been illegal!”

“Cut the chase, Trenton! Did you?” Dopey was leaning closer to Trenton and Jamie could see that he was obviously on edge to know if Trenton did in fact, bed that broad. Maybe it was the lack of entertainment while they are awaiting to move out. Meaning, there was none. They kept each other entertained by telling stories and jokes and honestly, Jamie thought that she heard them all.

“Of course I did, man! Pumped her full. Maybe I’ll be a dad real soon!” Trenton chirped, a shit eating grin on his face.

There were cheers of _oooohhhhh_ ’s and  _uuuuhhh_ ’s. And even though Jamie knew that it was a total lie, she kept it to herself. There was no way that she’s going to steal Trenton’s thunder. She’d let him shine. The war is though enough and hell, she didn’t even know if half of the stories of the others were accurate, so.

“What’s so funny?” Jamie knew that rough voice. It was Dean’s. She looked behind her to see him and Lieutenant Balthazar balancing trays of food. Gabriel and Castiel were still in line.

“Trenton is telling us about his baby mama he left back in England, sir.” Dopey shouted and smiled brightly at Trenton, but Trenton didn’t return the smile. He was a little embarrassed, and Jamie could tell that by the blush that started to spread on Trenton’s face.

“Is that so?” Balthazar chuckled, and instead of them going to another table where the other NCO’s of their company were sitting, Balthazar put his tray down next to Jamie. “I wanna hear all about it.” And they all scooched up to accommodate the Lieutenants and the ones who were still waiting in line.

Dean was sitting across of Balthazar and maybe Jamie just imagined it but he had a little smile on his face when their eyes met.

“Uh..sir, nothing really worth telling.” Trenton stammered a little. Sure thing was that he can tell the story to his mates, but for him, it was a whole other thing telling it to his superiors. Trenton didn’t know where the line was and he didn’t want to cross it and anger them.

Dean chuckled at that. “Come on, Trenton. Share it with the class!”

“Al-alright, but you asked for it, sir.”

Dean and Balthazar looked at each other, raising their eyebrows and shrugged before they turned their attention to Trenton and he began to tell them the story again.

Jamie didn’t listen. She had heard it too many times already.

At the end, they were all laughing again and she wondered if they were laughing to make Trenton feel better.

“Was that your first time?” Balthazar asked bluntly. He was like that. Balthazar always was a bit rude and a little straight forward. Jamie was glad that she wasn’t in his platoon.

“Balth,” Dean tried to defuse the situation, because everyone could see how uncomfortable Trenton was feeling.

Balthazar shrugged at Dean. “What? It was just a question. My god…”

“I think, with all due respect, sir. It’s none of your business.” Jamie jumped in and turned to look at Balthazar, now the shit eating grin was her face.

Balthazar was speechless for a moment and the distraction came in the forms of Lieutenants Gabriel and Novak who sat down at the table.

“I think Blum’s right, Balth,” Castiel took a bite from his food, “You’re being an asshole.”

Balthazar looked at Jamie, grinning back now. “You think I’m rude too, Bambi?”

“Balth,” Dean said again, this time, a little louder, a little stern and it made Balthazar blink a couple of times. Jamie knew that he was probably pissed that Dean jumped in.

“Yes, sir.” Jamie’s voice was calm.

Balthazar looked at her, and then he started to laugh, throwing his head back dramatically and everyone was just looking at him, waiting for him to calm himself down. She raised an eyebrow. She thought the behavior was weird because it really wasn’t funny.

As Jamie thought, it wouldn’t be long until Balthazar would pick on her again and she was right. He turned his attention back to her, “And you, Bambi? Did you ever get laid or are you going to die a virgin in this war?”

“Balth!” Dean stood up from his seat and smashed his fist on the table angrily, spilling some drinks on impact. The whole hall went quiet. “Shut the fuck up! If you want to shit on a platoon, do that to your own. These are my men and they deserve to be treated with some goddamn respect!”

Dean lowered himself back to his seat, as he let his words sink in, and Jamie grinned before she spoke with a steady voice. “With all due respect, sir, first of all, Bambi is the name that only Lieutenant Winchester and my platoon are allowed to call me. Second of all, sir, I’ve probably bedded more broads than you because I’m cute and you’re just an asshole.” She grinned wide and added “At least that’s what your mom said to me.”

The table was still and Balthazar gasped. Nobody dared to say a word until a laughter broke the silence. Novak, who knew Balthazar since they went to Kindergarten together had a laughing fit, snorting even signaling that it was safe for everyone else to join in.

Dean smiled at her, his green eyes glistening, silently telling her that she did good.


	8. Chapter 8

**August 14th, 1944**

Dean was whistling as his platoon stood at attention. He hadn’t been in this good spirit in what seemed like months, but today was a good day. Maybe because he finally found some time to meet Bambi after dinner.

_“Sir.” Bambi looked up at him through her thick eyelashes, her large brown eyes sparkling in the sunlight. “Can I help you with something?”_

_“Actually, you can.” He shifted his weight awkwardly, trying to keep his stomach from doing summer salts. What was he, fourteen? He’d been with women before, just not like that. None like her._

_“Care to elaborate, Lieutenant?” Her smile grew, challenging him._

_“I need your assistance at Twenty-one hundred hours, Bambi. Needs to sort through ammo supplies. See if we still have enough.”_

_“I don’t know, Lieutenant. I may be busy. That’s around the time that Trenton tells his wild tales about his newest love interest. I can’t miss that, sir.”_

_Dean quirked an eyebrow, as if to ask her ‘seriously’?_

_She smirked in response. “But I guess I can do it for our fearless leader. Since you’re asking so nicely.”_

They’d been tip toeing around each other, unconsciously and consciously touching when their hands would meet, and Dean felt himself blushing every damn time. They’d sit across from each other during meals, their eyes meeting, and toes brushing under the table. It was like there was a magnet pulling them together by their chests. He ached to kiss her again.

She would ask him questions, even when she knew the answer, just to get him to come closer.  _“Where does this piece go on the rifle again, sir? The bolt, isn’t it? I never can quite get it right.”_

_“Just takes practice, Bambi.” He said with fake annoyance. “Let me show you.”_

He’d lean over, pressing his palm to her back.

She’d sit up a little straighter and bat his hand away. There were eyes everywhere, and just because she was a woman didn’t mean that it was any less dangerous for them to be together.

_“Don’t tell them, Dean. You have to promise me. I can’t go home, not now.” Her fingers were laced with his. “Not while my brothers are out here somewhere. I just can’t sit alone doing nothing.”_

They’d stand too close. He’d feel her breath on his skin, and he would jump in the opposite direction. Tension was high, to say the least. He couldn’t wait to get her alone, even to just talk. When he was with her he wasn’t a superior officer talking to his private. He was just Dean, and she was Jamie. There was something unbelievably peaceful about that.

But it was only Oh-nine-hundred, so it was still a damn long way to go, but Dean couldn’t help feeling giddy.

Right then, Dean was trying his best not to think about her soft lips on his. Not to think about how she tasted on the tip of his tongue and how his name sounded whispered, breathless on her lips.

She’d got under his skin, snuck up on him and crawled inside. She was a spitfire and Dean was glad that he she wouldn’t let herself be tamed. Not by him, or anyone else. Somehow it made him worry about her a little less. There was no question that Jamie Blum could take care of herself.

“Physical training at Eleven-hundred-hours. You’re dismissed.” Dean shouted and his men walked away with some  _yes sirs_.

Bambi looked back to him, her nose wrinkling with the smallest smile. If he hadn’t been staring so hard he wouldn’t have seen it. She turned her head and went with Trenton. Dean really couldn’t wait for the evening to arrive. He’ll be meeting Bambi at Twenty-one-hundred hours at their spot which Dean scouted over and over to see if it really was safe. He was thankful that he was her platoon leader so it made it less suspicious. Maybe he was wrong, but Dean liked to believe it. It made him a little less sick to his stomach at the thought of getting caught. Worst case scenario they’d think they were queer, shoot first and ask questions later. Best case scenario, they’d find out she was a girl, and they’d send her home. Neither were options that Dean wanted to explore.

Of course his plans would get thrown out of the window when Castiel called for an emergency briefing at Twenty-thirty-hours. They would move out in less than 48 hours toward Brest. Another combat. Another city to capture and it was a big one. They talked about what would happen and Castiel gave them the little intel he had. Telling them that they would notify their men tomorrow after the morning briefing. It was just informal for now. The meeting was long for an informal one, though, and Dean flipped his wrist to look at his watch. It was Twenty-one-oh-two. He was already two minutes late. Dean turned his attention back to listen to Castiel, but shifted nervously from one foot to the other.

“Winchester, somewhere you need to be?” Castiel asked, raising an eyebrow.

“No, sir.”

The answer was good enough for Cas. He asked if they had more questions, and Dean hoped that Gabe would shut his mouth. He was always the goody-good boy. Trying to crawl up the ass of whoever was CO.

Castiel looked at their faces and when no question came, he dismissed them and Dean let out an exhale.

Dean walked with the others to their billets, then excused himself, saying that he had to check the latrines because his platoon had latrine duty. He looked at his watch when he stood outside of his billet building. It was now Twenty-one-twelve. He was already 12 minutes late. She was probably gone. He started to run then, as good as his healed up ankle would let him.

He was out of breath when he arrived in front of the supply room and looked around to see if someone was following him. When the coast was clear, he pushed the door open just enough to wedge his body inside and closed it behind him carefully.

It was dark already, only the faint light from the night sky shimmered through the windows and his eyes needed time to adjust to the darkness.

Dean didn’t know what to do. Didn’t know if she was still there or if she was already gone. He took a tentative step into the room and was about to call out for her when he was thrown off his balance by her body. Jamie jumped on him with a faint shriek and a huffed giggle. She hooked her legs around his waist, still laughing as she rested her forehead on his. “You’re late, sir.” She whispered against his mouth before she kissed him. He could still taste the coffee on her lips as he smiled into the kiss. He held onto her thighs to keep her up.

He paused the kiss to let out a breathy, “Sorry,” before he walked her further into the room, with one hand secured around her waist and one hand at the back of her neck. He pulled her closer, to the back of the room where the darkness would swallow them whole.

Dean pressed her back against the far wall, kissing himself stupid on her taste. He smiled as he felt her cheeks heat up against his. She held his face between her hands, letting her fingertips brush against his heated skin before she went further down, unzipping his jacket. Her fingers danced along his suspenders. She pushed them down on either side. Dean gladly let her. He shrugged his combat jacket off one arm after another and pinned her back against the wall when he was freed of the fabric.

He was busy with her intoxicating kisses, the way she pushed her tongue into his mouth without any preamble, the way the tip of her tongue tickled the underside of his. He felt how his dick started to swell at the new found excitement. It had been too long since the last time he did this very thing. He rolled his hips up, this time fully aware that there was no friction to be met, but she moved down a bit, grinding down on his bulge. Dean breathed out a strangled moan into her mouth.

She tapped on his arm, and he let her down. She leaned her back against the wall standing on her toes, as Dean continued to kiss her. It was all tongue and teeth, too fast and probably clumsy. She was inexperienced, but hell, if it wasn’t perfect. Dean’s heart was thumping hard and he couldn’t remember when he’d ever been that excited. He recalled that it was probably never.

Bambi’s hand were on the front of his pants, the pressure of it made his dick twitch and Dean jerked a little as she ran her fingers over the length of him through the fabric. He bit down on her bottom lip in the process; the friction was too sudden and fuck, he wasn’t prepare of how good it would feel. “Shit, sorry,” He whispered, his forehead on hers and she giggled, looking up to mold her lips back to his again.

Her small hands were quick on his belt working it open, the clink of metal echoing in the tiny space. She loosened his buttons with deft fingers, and Dean tried to do the same but immediately abandoned his mission, because he was way too impatient to work them open. He wanted to feel her. To connect. His hand squeezed it’s way past the buttons of her combats, and then he pushed past the elastic of her cotton army underwear and cupped at her sex with the heel of his palm, his fingers threaded through her slick. She bit down on her already red and swollen bottom lip, and Dean could even see in the dim lighting, that she was flushed. Her cheeks were burning up and Dean almost forgot his ministration from how cute she looked.

His fingers parted her folds and Dean held in his breath when he felt her getting wetter. He lowered his head to hers, kissing her again, his nose bumping against hers clumsily, and he smiled against the corner of her mouth. His fingers worked her open while he circled her clit with his thumb. He groaned into her mouth when she pushed her hand into his underwear and he jerked his hips away from her touch a little. Her hands were damn cold, and Dean needed a second to compose himself. Jamie was grinning cheekily and he kissed it away like he had always wanted to the past few weeks.

His hard cock was twitching and throbbing in her small hands and she worked his shaft, rubbing him the right way along his lengths, the pressure was perfect. Dean had a lot to compare her to, but he didn’t want to. If he was being honest, he couldn’t remember anyone but her in that moment. It was more than he thought it would be. She slipped her other hand into his underwear too, cupping his sac and twirled his balls in her palm, and he thrusted his cock into her fist gently. When she thumbed his slit and let her fingertip that was coated in precum brush over his sensitive string of nerves, Dean almost lost it and he had to stop with his ministration, taking his hand out of her pants to brace himself against the wall, mumbling curses to himself. He was not going to last with the build up. It’d been too long, and she was too fucking perfect. His elbows were resting on either side of her head as he kissed her again, breathing unevenly in to the kiss and his heart was pounding out of his chest. He kissed her again and again. All over. And still it wasn’t enough. It would never be enough.

“Fuck.” Dean let out another hot breath, as he rest his forehead on her shoulder, his nose bumping against her throat.

“What?” She whispered, breathless.

She looked up with a glint in her eyes and Dean chuckled softly. Not the good kind of chuckle, it was a chuckle that said _I’m a stupid fuck and I can’t believe that I came here without a solid plan_.

“I wish I still had the condoms they gave us for waterproofing when we crossed the channel. Fuck…” Dean buried his head in the crook of her neck, smelling the familiar smell of soap and camouflage cream. Both of her hands now worked his dick and shit, if she didn’t stop, he won’t be able to hold it in any longer.

“You used them all?” If he wasn’t mistaken, she looked a little jealous.

Dean could almost hear the sinking of her heart and he felt her releasing the grip around his cock. Actually, he was glad about that because it gave him a breather.

“No.. oh no, no. I abandoned them at the bottom of the sea when I got rid of my haversack.”

“Oh..”

She smiled, and laced her arms around his neck to scratch at the short hair at the base of it. Dean closed his eyes, it felt great.

“We still could, you know…” She stood on her tip toes and whispered against the shell of his ear. Dean looked down to her, his eyebrows raised.

“What do you mean?”

“I want to, Dean.” Her large brown eyes bore into his. “I haven’t had my period, since before I was drafted. You could pull out.”

He frowned at that, the lines on his forehead showing. Then she smiled again, her hand cupping his cheek, her thumbs brushing along the scruff before she spoke. “I want you to.”

“I..I –”

It was probably not the best thing Dean could do, but god knows how much he wanted it too.

“Sir, if you don’t do it, I swear I’ll–”

Dean kissed her, cutting her off and he murmured a, “Yes, Ma’am” into her mouth.

She toed off her boots and it left Dean stunned because they were already unlaced. “Always be prepared, Lieutenant.” She said with a wink and if Dean didn’t feel anything for her before, he sure as hell would then. But that was irrelevant because he was head over heels smitten with her.

Bambi pushed him away to shimmy herself out of her combat pants and rid herself of her jacket when Dean watched her. He put his palm to his mouth and spit on it before he took his cock in his hand, fisting it up and down as he waited for her to finish getting out of her clothes.

She wiggled out of her pants, and lost balance. She slipped on the pant leg and fell on her face clumsily and Dean didn’t want to, but he couldn’t help the laugh that threw his whole body back and logged itself in his throat. He composed himself quickly, though. Remembering that they needed to stay quiet and almost kicked himself in the ass for not being more careful.

She stood up again soon after, hitting him across his chest for laughing at her, and it hurt, but Dean totally deserved it. She met his eyes and swatted his hand away from his dick and grabbed it roughly, tightening her grip around his length and squeezed a little too tightly. Dean hitched his breathing and he guessed that he also deserved that.

He looked down to see her grinning at him.

“Jump,” He whispered holding his arms out, ready to catch her.

“How high, Lieutenant?” She giggled as she jumped up into his arms. Dean wrapped his arms around her tightly, pinning her back against the wall.

“You sure about this?” He asked her again, lowly, because if she wouldn’t be, he was ready to back out of it. But she nodded and Dean pressed his lips to hers slowly in response, drinking her in. Bambi, the one he could never have. The kisses were demanding and all want, weeks of pent up energy. She tugged on his hair, proving that she needed him just as much as he needed her. He licked her bottom lip as he lined up his cock at her entrance, brushing the tip through her slick before he pushed his hips forward, sinking himself into her hot heat. She hitched her breathing and tensed a little from the pressure, but she didn’t tell him to stop. He stalled for a moment, resting his forehead on hers, their breathing mingled. “You okay?” He asked her and waited for her okay, before he pushed himself in another inch.

Dean worked his hips forward gently, sinking into her tight pussy, inch by inch, and  _fuck_ , it felt so fucking good that he had to stall when his pelvis was flushed to hers. They were there, connected on the inside, skin on skin with no space in between. An inaudible moan rolled off her tongue and the sound alone almost made him lose his shit. It was a moan that got under his skin and paired with the stimulation, it felt like heaven and beyond.

She was crawling at his back, holding herself up. “Dean?”

“Huh?”

“I won’t break, you know.” Her eyes were alert, bright and expecting. Those fucking eyes.

“Yeah.. uh.. I know.” He said, his heart was pounding fast and he was sure that she could feel it through the fabric of their shirts. “I… just… fuck, Bambi, I won’t last long.” He ran his fingers through her short hair.

She laughed at that and Dean should’ve maybe felt embarrassed but, he didn’t. Instead he listened to the sound of her laugh, drinking it in, memorizing it to keep it in his mind forever.

Dean moved, thrusting his hips forward into her and she kissed him, her breathing ragged with each thrust. She squeezed her hand between the two of them as she began to rub at herself while he fucked into her.

Jamie left open mouthed kisses on the corner of his mouth, sucking at his jaw, dragging her teeth along his throat, and Dean moaned at the sensation overload.

“Shit, Dean.. I.. ah..” Jamie came with a whimper and his name that rolled off her lips like the sweetest melody Dean’d ever heard. He couldn’t count how many times he’d imagined hearing her say his name like that. Wrecked and breathy, her lips still smelling of his skin. Her thighs pressed against his waist, squeezing it hard in between as her walls cramped down on his dick, holding it captive and fuck, it was all too much. Too tight, too good, too damn perfect.

“Shit..fuck,” Dean squeezed his eyes shut as he moaned and pulled out, but it wasn’t fast enough. He had already spilled half of it inside of her and the rest was visibly on her inner thighs and the floor. He let her down quickly and took a step back before running his fingers through his hair, his eyes wide. “Shit, Bambi. Fuck, I’m sorry. Shit. It shouldn’t have happened. I fuck.. I shouldn’t. Shit!” Dean lowered himself onto his knees, his legs felt wobbly all of a sudden.

He’d fucked up.

He put his dick back into his pants and buttoned it up before he sat himself against the wall some inches away from the spilled cum. Jamie got dressed quickly and came to sit beside him quietly.

Dean clasped his head in his hand and rubbed through his hair. Back and forth, back and forth. “Shit, Bambi. I’m sorry…” He sounded like an old record. Repeating himself over and over.

“Shhh..” She moved closer, hushing him as she laid her head on his shoulder. “It’s not your fault.”

“I.. I, just.. really haven’t done it for a very long time and I guess, I miscalculated. You were so fucking tight too and it.. fuck, you were perfect, alright.”

Dean didn’t lie. Last time he hooked up with someone it was back in England and he was drunk then, didn’t even really remember what happened when he woke next to a broad in the middle of the night. He jumped out of the bed, scrambled around the floor for his clothes and was glad that he found a used condom near the bed, so at least he still had enough common sense to use one. Unlike now; and he knew that it’s also on him.

She smirked at that. “Dean, really. It’s ok.” She repeated again and Dean frowned at first but he spread his arm for her to curl close to his body. Dean kissed the top of her head, his lips lingered there. Her short hair pricking him a little, but he didn’t complain.

“Thanks.” She said then and Dean looked down at her. Her doe eyes looking back at him.

“For what?”

“It was nice Lieutenant. I’d love to do it again sometime.” She was smiling cheekily.

Dean blushed at that and he hoped that she didn’t see it. “Yes, Ma’am. Come here.” He maneuvered her over his leg to sit between his thighs and he let her lean the back of her head on his chest.

“Do you know that you’re less grumpy nowadays?” She asked out of the blue and tilted her head to look up at him.

“What’s that?”

“Yeah, the men said that they don’t know what happened to you but apparently you got soft and you smile more.” She giggled and shifted herself to her side, so her face was resting in the crook of his neck and he was holding her with both arms.

“Is that so?”

“Haha.. yeah.” She laughed. “Did you know that they used to call you Grumpy?”

He’d been called many things in the past and he knew that his platoon had a nickname for him, but he didn’t know what it was. When he heard the name, he frowned down at her. “What?”

“Grumpy. I mean, you gave them the name Dopey and Sneezy. So…”

“Who said that? It’s Tran isn’t it?” Dean murmured and she just shrugged.

“Not going to kiss and tell, Lieutenant.”

“Remind me to put his name in for latrine duty from here on out until we get Hitler’s head on a stick, will ya?”

“Oh, come on, cut him some slack,” She punched him in the chest playfully. “And in his defense. You were really grumpy.”

That was probably true. Dean has no valid explanation for why he was such a stick in the mud, and he was not going to deny it.

They stayed a little while longer, sitting there in the comforting dark silence. Jamie fell asleep in his arms, listening to his heartbeat against her ear. Dean really didn’t want to wake her, she looked peaceful. He’d seen her sleep before, but never quite like that. Her lips were parted slightly, and her eyes were completely at rest. Her face looked relaxed, beautiful even. He smiled down at her, placing a gentle kiss on her forehead. He had to be the bad guy, and wake sleeping beauty, because at Twenty-three-thirty-hours he had to check their billets.

“Hey.” He mumbled, kissing her awake.

“Shit, what time is it? I should be heading back.” Jamie jolted up when he kissed her.

“So soon?” He joked, but he knew that their time was up. There was never enough time.

She stood up and held out a hand for him to take. “Yeah, my platoon leader is really strict. He’ll come by every night at the same time and if someone’s not in their bed, he tends to be dramatic and raises hell. You know, being all tough and puffing out his chest, hanging out his alpha male behaviour and all.”

Dean got on his feet and hugged her around her waist. He lowered his head to whisper in her ears. “He sounds like an asshole.”

“Ugh.. he is. But I like him.”

“I bet he’s a handsome asshole.” Dean kissed her lips one last time before he let her go out first. He stayed behind a couple of minutes longer, just to be safe.

Before he went for inspection, he read Sam’s letter that he didn’t have the time to read earlier. He tore up the dirty envelope and took out the pages. There was dried blood on it too and shit, he hoped that Sam took care of himself.

 

_Dear Dean,_

_Never fucking joke like that ever again, alright? You know that you’re not funny and the fact that you almost died is even less funny. I should court-martial you. Fucking jerk! I bet I would find a good reason to do it, too. Especially after you said that you did something stupid. What did you do? Steal Cas’ socks? I know what a goody soldier you are, and I can’t say that I’m not worried when you, of all people, tell me that you did something stupid._

_Dean, please don’t do anything stupid, alright? I have my hands full here. I can’t come and get you out of military jail. They won’t even let me. I’m begging you. Don’t do anything stupid. We want to get out of the war alive, remember?._

_But honestly, even if it was something stupid, I still believe that it’s something that could be fixed. You could always fix things, Dean. Remember how you keep fixing my bike? I kept breaking it, thinking I could do stunts with it. Thankfully I never broke more than my leg. How could you not have told me to stop?_

_I’m good, though. Jess wrote to me. She’ll keep waiting for me to come home. Shit, Dean, I wanna go back home. Wanna see Jess again. I think I’m going to ask her to marry me. You think it’s too soon? Or stupid? I know that you’ve kept mom’s jewelry in your desk drawer at home. I know that her wedding and engagement rings are in there and I also know that you’re the older brother and you can call dibs on it but since you have noone to propose to - and don’t take it as an offense, alright, because you and me both know that I don’t mean it like that - would you mind.. I mean, would it be okay for me to propose to Jess with it? I know mom would have wanted it to, I just wanted to double check with you, is all._

_By the way, Anna wrote to me, too. She said that you were not writing back to her. Now, I know that it’s not my place, but maybe you should tell her that you don’t feel anything for her, because even though I love you brother, but I’m not doing the dirty work for you. I have to clean up other people’s messes on a daily basis and I have got no patience left for your mess._

_Keep yourself alive, jerk!_

_Sergeant Sam Winchester_

 

 

**August 17th, 1944**

The back of the deuce-and-a-half was uncomfortable to say the least. One and Two platoons were cramped in narrow spaces, and Tran just fell asleep on Jamie’s shoulder. She let him sleep, though. Even though she felt his saliva wetting her jacket. They didn’t get to sleep a lot, and she could hear all the whimpers at night when the men would jerk awake with nightmares. They usually were not able to go back to sleep because they wanted to escape the faces of fallen friends and gaping bullet wounds. War did that, it invaded even the quietest places of your mind, nestled in, and stayed with you.

Jamie didn’t really get a lot of sleep herself, but apart from the dark bags under her eyes, her spirits were still high. She scanned the men around her, looking for the familiar face of Dean and there he was, laughing and joking with Harvelle. When he saw her looking, he grinned. 

“Tran!” Dean shouted from across. “Hey! Corporal Tran!”

Jamie shot Dean a look that said so much as  _it’s ok, let him sleep_.

“Tran!” Dean shouted again, waking him up and Tran jerked, slurping up a string of saliva.

“Sorry.” Tran mumbled and she smirked at him, telling him that it was alright. “What’s up, sir?” He shouted to Dean, his hand wiping away the sleep from his eyes.

“Just wanted to make sure you’re not soiling all of Bambi’s shoulder, is all.” Dean replied with a cheeky grin, thinking that he’d done her a favor, but Jamie was having none of it.

“Sir, I can speak for myself, and Tran clearly needed the nap. I haven’t seen him sleeping so peacefully in days.”

She could see that Dean wasn’t impressed with her talking back at him like that in front of his men, but he said nothing. Just curled and uncurled his fingers into fists before he took out the tin of cigarettes and lit up one.

“Bambi, I need to see you when we get off.”

“Shit.” Tran murmured to her. “I’m sorry, Blum. You didn’t have to stand up for me.”

“It’s fine. I’ll be alright.” She said, dismissively, her eyes never leaving Deans.

 

***

 

They’ve been waiting for orders as they stopped short of a tiny village. “We’ll be pairing with Easy company.” Dean said calmly as he took a knee to show them the map that was propped on it.

Someone was shouting from the back. “Thank god not Dog!”

“Shut your mouth, private.” Dean growled before he went on. “We’ll be clearing these houses on the west before meeting the rest of the convoy here.” He pointed at the red dot where the trucks would be waiting for them to take them further towards Brest. “Any questions?”

When none was forthcoming, Dean folded the map and put it back into his webbing before he nodded at his men.

“Bambi, I still need to talk to you.” He singled her out and they fell back as Baker and Easy company marched towards their objectives.

“What is it?” She asked him bluntly, even though she probably knew what he’s going to say.

Dean fell into step beside her, his breathing was heavy. “About Tran. Listen, I was just trying to help.”

“Yeah, well, maybe I didn’t need your help.”

“Just thought that you’d be annoyed that he was drooling all over you, is all.”

She stalled. “Really? Is this what it’s all about? Or are you jealous?”

“No.” It came shooting out of Dean like a bullet. Which, Jamie thought, meant that he probably was. She didn’t get it. They weren’t like that yet, were they?

“It’s fine, Dean. I can take care of myself. Hell, I went through Basic and Saint Lo without your damn help. You even made my life miserable, but I’m still here.” She walked again, faster this time, intending to leave Dean behind. She didn’t have time for this bullshit.

There was the sound of shells up front and they all crouched down. The platoons seeking out their leaders to go over strategy. “Rifle squad, move in on the left flank. The others, move right, prepare to lay down base of fire to support Easy company.”

Jamie was about to jog up to catch up on the rifle squad when Dean held her back. “What now?” She hoped that Dean could hear the annoyance in her voice.

“I don’t want you there.” He just replied, as he pushed her towards the other squad and they move up right.

“Where do you want me, sir?” She made it clear that he couldn’t overhear the annoyance in the tone of her voice.

“No further than five feet away from me.” He said as he stomped away, leaving Jamie to catch up on him and she ran, breathing hard as she finally reached him. “And that’s not negotiable.” He was hissing at her before he crouched down and pulled her with him, their rifle pulled up to their shoulders, as they waited to give fire support.

A mortar hit a couple of feet behind them and Dean shouted “Run!” before he sprinted across the street, his rifle pulled up to fire in the direction of the source. She tagged along and was never more than five feet away from him, as she’d been ordered.

There was another loud hissing, and there it was. She could see the mortar shell that flew high above, as if it was in slow motion. Jame stopped firing and looked at the shell and how it was flying directly at her. Of course that couldn’t happen, but in that moment, it did. Everything moved too slowly, but she couldn’t move. She stood there, frozen in space. All she could hear was a scream, and suddenly, everything went black.


	9. Chapter 9

**August 17th, 1944**

“Bambi!” Dean shouted out, his voice hoarse and strained as he tried to be louder than the incoming mortars and shells. He felt numb, his ears were ringing with the thumbing of his own heartbeat.

 _Move, move!_ He willed himself, shouting to his brain, commanding it to make his body move, directing the orders to his legs that stalled mid-motion.

Nothing.

It felt like an eternity before his body finally listened to him and Dean swung his rifle back around his shoulders before he launched himself forward.

He was close to Bambi, but not close enough. It wouldn’t stop him, though. Dean leapt forward, making himself longer than he was, stretching his arms out as far that they would go and further still. He launched himself toward her, his palms touching her combat jacket as he pushed her out of the way of the mortar shell with all his might. They both fell from the force of his push, crushing her underneath his weight on landing.

Her head hit the cobblestones with a dull thud. Her helmet, that she didn’t secure right, rolled away over dust and gravel. The mortar touched down, logged itself between two cobblestones a mere 10 feet away from them. Dean looked at it, all the soldiers were looking at him and Bambi, their faces frowning. Dean already saw his life pass him by.  _Not now, not the fuck now._

The mortar was a dud and failed to detonate.

“Cover!” Lafitte yelled and Dean scrambled up while the others took cover.

Goddamn it, Bambi!

Dean quickly got back on his feet, yelling for his men to lay suppressive fire so that he could get Bambi to safety. Then Dean hauled her by her jacket - up and over his shoulder - and carried her in a crouched run toward the next building that was shielded from the line of fire. He shouted for a medic, his vocal cords rougher and more raw with every noise that came out of him.

“Medic! Medic! I need a fucking medic!”

Dean let her down, propping her back against the wall and he placed his fingers on her pulse point. He knew that she was alive, he just wanted to be extra sure.

Her head lolled around. She was in and out of consciousness, her eyes blinking open and closed, completely unfocused. Dean felt helpless. He wanted to stay with her, but he also knew that he had to go back to support his men.

“Medic! I need a fucking medic! Medic!”

He didn’t want to stop yelling for one, and he would keep on until one of them would show the fuck up.

Finally, Shurley came rushing in, his hand streaked with dried blood and dirt and for a moment, Dean just watched him trying to clean his hands on his combats before he touched Bambi’s throat to check her pulse. Dean wanted to say that he’d done that and he should fucking do something else already.

“I got this, Lieutenant. You go!” Shurley broke Dean’s train of thought.

Dean blinked, still trying to figure out his next move, but then the shouting and the hissing of shells came back and he retreated, sprinting back to support his men in the front line of the battle.

 

***

 

After the briefing Dean took off running towards the deuce-and-a-half where the walking wounded were being patched up. They captured some POW’s and defeated the Germans. Their only hope now was that words didn’t get out to Brest yet but all of that was secondary to Dean. He sprinted the last couple of yards.

He spotted her from afar immediately, sitting on the flatbed with her eyes closed and her back leaned against the metal of the truck. When Dean came closer, he could hear her humming, as if it was a way for her to calm her nerves. He stood there, listening and after a while he recognized the song. It’s what they heard a lot in Vire. The people who were left in that bombed out city had only one record and they played it up and down. Normally Dean would mind hearing a song over and over again but in that case, he didn’t. It was a great song and when Cas translated the lyrics to them, Dean listened in closely.

 _Et puis un jour tu m'as quittée, depuis je suis désespérée._  “One day you left me, I’ve been desperate since.” Cas explained while the song was still playing in the back.

 _Je te vois partout dans le ciel. Je te vois partout sur la terre. Tu es ma joie et mon soleil, Ma nuit, mes jours, mes aubes claires._ “I see you everywhere in the sky. I see you everywhere on the earth. You are my joy and my sun. My nights, my days, my clear dawns.”

 _Tu es partout car tu es dans mon cœur. Tu es partout car tu es mon bonheur._ “You are everywhere because you are in my heart. You are everywhere because you are my happiness.”

Every each soldier was listening to Castiel that evening. Some of them had tears in their eyes when they thought of the loved ones.

Dean didn’t feel like interrupting her. He’d rather just stand there and listen to her humming, but when he saw that the people around him were already preparing to move out, he had to. He took a leap, jumped on the truck and crouched next to her.

“You alright?” He asked hesitantly, his voice a low whisper and then he shifted closer so he was right beside her. His fingers curled into fists as he held himself back. They were itching to reach out to her, touch her and feel for himself that she’s alive and still here.

She opened her eyes to meet his. They were still big and brown, and call Dean weird, but it reminded him of home.

“I’m fine, Lieutenant.” She tried to smile, Dean could see, but it was strained and he could tell that her head probably hurt from where it smashed against the concrete. Her back was most likely bruised black and blue from his weight when he shielded her from that mortar.

He nodded at her. Of course she wasn’t fine but he knew better than to ask again. “You’re hitching a ride with Battalion staff to our next meeting point.”

Bambi shook her head and tried to get out of the truck bed. “No, I can –” She curled up in pain and Dean put his hand on her shoulders, gripping them tight as he gently pushed her back to rest her back against the metal.

“Listen, okay, you’re going to be just fine with them. I’ll see you in a day.” He cradled her face between his big palms. Everyone from the outside would think that he’s checking if one of his private was doing alright.

“Yeah, yeah.” She answered, a little annoyed.

“You probably have a concussion. They need to keep an eye on you.” He said and she just stared at him. Dean went on. “And when I see you again, we need to talk.” Dean looked into her eyes and then he saw her grinning at him.

“Well, sir, do we call it  _talking_  now?” The little misunderstanding they had before almost forgotten.

“No, I need to really talk to you.”  _Damn it_ , he adjusted his collar to hide the rising heat up his neck. She managed to make him blush in the midst of war.

“Can’t wait.”

“Behave, alright.” He ran his thumb along her jaw. It came out a little sweeter than he intended. The sight of her unfocused pupils made his stomach churn, and really put a damper in his normal sarcastic antics. “Don’t get kicked out of the truck bed for being a pain in everyone’s asses.”

She smiled, flashing her teeth as she parted her lips and damn he would’ve loved to kiss her right then. “And you don’t get dead.”

“Promise.” He nodded, squeezing her shoulder gently before he returned to his platoon. They were going to march toward the next rendezvous point.

“Lieutenant?”

Dean turned around to see her smile at him.

“Thanks.”

He wanted to tell her that it was his duty. Not only as her superior, but also because she managed to capture his heart in such a short period of time. He wanted to tell her what he really felt, but they were there in the open with more than a thousand eyes on them and instead of telling her all this, he nodded, smirking softly before he went.

Dean didn’t lie when he said that he needed to talk to her. It’s just… he didn’t know how to do it yet. He didn’t know how to tell her that he’d like to send her home, but he knew that she would have none of that. So the only logical thing would be to at least transfer her to another platoon. Gabe or Baltazar could use a marksman. They were good leaders, although Balthazar could be a complete asshole.

He knew that he can’t have her around him. He would worry too much and he would neglect his job because, even if Dean didn’t want to say it out loud, when push comes to shove, he would be choosing Bambi over all the other men in his platoon, over Castiel, and over the winning of the war. He can’t let that happen. Not yet. They needed the wins. They needed to keep on fighting. He was sure that he’d find the words, he still had time until he would see her again. Only, time was of running out because every day could be his last and he knew that, too.

 

 

Jamie watched as the troops moved out. She wanted to go with them. Damn her moment of weakness that sent her there. She hated everything about the truck. Hated, that she was sitting around, unable to move or do anything against it. She lied down then, closing her eyes and hummed Edith Piaf.

_Des fois, je rêve que je suis dans tes bras. Et qu'à l'oreille tu me parles tout bas. Tu dis des choses qui font fermer les yeux. Et moi je trouve ça merveilleux. “Sometimes I dream that I am in you arms and you speak softly in my ears. You say things that make me close my eyes and I find that marvellous.”_

It was nightfall when the staff finally cleared the little village, registering POW’s and sending home wounded. Jamie rode with the walking wounded who couldn’t return to their platoons and the staff medics. She listened to them telling jokes and laughing, but all she wanted was to sleep.

They stopped every other odd couple of miles. It was exhausting to say the least and Jamie thought that if she would walk, she’d be there sooner.

 

***

 

**August 18th, 1944**

The truck rolled in at the rendezvous point where Baker company had already set up a harbor area. She noticed men from her platoon on sentry.

“Hey Bambi! Welcome back!” Private Fitzgerald shouted as the truck drove by. “We’ve dug you a hole. Made it all cozy, too!”

Jamie smiled at that.

She got off the truck and there would be a last check before she would be released to her platoon, but already she saw Dean striding along, breaking into a jog as the truck came to a halt. It was dusk and the daylight was almost gone, but Dean’s bowed legs were giving him away and they were hard to miss. He stopped short before he would reach her, waiting with his arms crossed over his body as the medical staff looked into her mouth and shone into her eyes with the flashlight. “Good to go, private. I bet your platoon leader is relieved that he’ll have you back.”

“What do you mean?” She asked curiously, feeling a little paranoid.

The doc, patted her shoulders. “Ya know, we’re losing too many of you. So every wounded who can go back is kind of a win for us.”

Jamie blushed. “Oh,”

“Take care, private.” He already turned around, attending to the next injured who is going to be released.

She saw Dean, shifting his weight from one foot to another. His helmet was a little askew and the straps hung down loosely down the sides of his face.

“Sir,” Jamie tried to stand at attention when she reached Dean, but there was a dull pain when she tried to stand up straight and she made a face.

“You alright?” Dean asked his hands holding onto her arm.

“Yes, sir.”

He smirked then, “Come on. The others are already waiting.” Then he ushered her away walking slowly back with her to where their platoon were staying. They were scattered around a campfire. Some were on sentry, some already asleep in their foxholes and the ones who were too lazy to dig one were leaning against each other, sleeping with their musette bags as pillows. Maybe it was weird, but Jamie really missed them. They were her brothers in arms. When it comes to war, soldiers needed people who they could trust next to them and she’d trust each and everyone of them.

They were a couple days away from Brest. The men were tired from the march, but nonetheless moral’s still high and maybe it was because she came back and they didn’t lose one more. She sometimes didn’t know how she deserved all of that. She could have had it much worse, but she didn’t think that she could have had it any better than the crazy bunch of 1st platoon of Baker company.

“Bambi,” Tran announced, holding out a metal mug of coffee for her. “Heard you were coming back. Dug you a hole,” He pointed his chin towards the hole far back and smiled ever so proudly. They knew that she liked to stay a little away from the others and they respected that.

“Made it extra comfy, too.” Harvelle chimed in. “Go, look.”

She smiled at them and walked over to her foxhole, Dean watched her from afar, he’d probably already seen it.

It was beginning to get dark, but she could see what was in there. They laid out the ground with leaves as to make it more comfortable for her back and honestly, she had tears in her eyes and she tried to bite them back.

“You like it?” Trenton was all smiles when he shouted to her, and she signaled them her joy with her thumbs up.

Jamie wanted to climb down and rest, but she didn’t know if she was allowed to. She looked over to where Dean was standing, silently asking him with her eyes if it was ok for her to rest and only went down when he nodded his approval. She probably wouldn’t be on sentry that night and reveille was going to be at some Oh-ridiculous-hours so she was mentally preparing herself to walk South toward Brest with the rest of the company.

 

***

 

Jamie woke up to the sound of rustling leaves as Dean knelt on the ground in her foxhole. The weird, but familiar smell of warmed up ratio meat filled the air and she didn’t even know that she was hungry until her stomach started to growl when she inhaled the scent.

“You’ve got to eat.” Dean said, holding out the food for her to take.

She sat up and looked back to her haversack that she used as a pillow and realized that the portion Dean was holding up was not her food. “Dean, no. I have my own.”

He shrugged before he sat next to her, his back leaning against the cold wall of the hole. “It’s alright. I wasn’t hungry and still have plenty.”

She didn’t want to ask him if he didn’t eat because he was worried if she would make it here, but she didn’t dare to ask because she feared the answer. Instead she whispered out a  _thank you_ as he sat there. Dean propped a flashlight up at the corner of the hole, lighting up the inside. Jamie was thankful for that. At least it wouldn’t be all awkward and filled with only the noise of her eating.

She ate fast, wolfing down the warm food in record time and maybe Dean was grinning as he watched her, but she didn’t care. Jamie finished and set the ratio pack down, returning the fork back to Dean and he put it into a pocket of his jacket.

“Jamie,”

“Huh?”

“Take off your jacket and turn around.” It didn’t sound like a question. Not even a command. Dean’s voice was barely a whisper. It was low and it had a vibration to it that shook her to the bones.

She nodded, unzipping her jacket and took it off with Dean’s help. She turned around and Dean lift her shirt and undershirt up, revealing black and blue bruises along her back and even though his fingertips were soft on her skin, it still made her flinch a little.

Jamie could hear Dean clearing his throat and then he turned off the flashlight and let go off her shirt. She could hear him breathe, could hear him sniffing and it took some time for her to adjust her eyes to her surroundings.

“Dean,” she reached out towards him and noticed that he rubbed at his face with his hand. “It’s alright.” She assured him. “I’m much better already, it doesn’t hurt that much anymore. Only a bit sore.”

“Shit…” Dean sniffed again, clearing his throat and then he finally took her hand. He kissed the inside of her palm before he laid it on his cheek. She could feel the dampness of his scruff.

“Hey, it’s not your fault. It was mine. I didn’t see it. I didn’t pay enough attention.” She got between his legs, moving slowly and he let her. She shifted, until she held his head in both her hand and made him look at her. “Not your fault, ok?”

He nodded, “Yeah, yeah.”

She leaned forward, capturing his lips with hers and he put his arms around her gently. Touching her like she was delicate as he open up his mouth for her to lick into. She lost herself in his taste, drinking from him like he was the one keeping her alive, and maybe he was. He pulled her closer and she straddled his lap, she could feel his cock hardening in his combats and she chuckled into the kiss.

“Jamie,” He broke the kiss, both of them were panting hard and he rested his forehead on hers.

“What?” She whispered against his lips. “You wanna break up with me because we had a little misunderstanding?” She really liked to rile him up.

There were wrinkles on his forehead when he frowned at her. “That wasn’t a misunderstanding.” He kisses her nose then. “If anything, you’re a fucking pain in my ass.”

“Do you wanna say that you like pain in your ass, sir? Because you know –”

“Bambi,” Dean interrupted her by pulling her into another kiss to shut her up. “I told you I want to talk to you.” He broke the kiss and leaned back a little, placing his hand on her waist and his fingers sneaked up her undershirt. His thumbs circling on her bare skin.

“Alright, shoot.” She grinned. “Wait, no. I mean, don’t. Ugh..” That made him laugh, his body shook under her.

“I take it you would be mad if I sent you home,” He said carefully and saw that she was already gasping for air and wanted to protest. “Keep listening…” He raised an eyebrow and went on. “I still want you to change platoons. If that’s okay with you.” He was completely still and Jamie knew that it wasn’t something he  _wanted_ to do. It was something he  _had_  to do. He was biting his lip anxiously waiting to hear her answer. If there was light in the damn foxhole, she probably could even see him squint his eyes as if he was afraid to hear what she had to answer him.

“Alright.” She shrugged. “Just… not Balthazar.”

“Why not?”

“He’s an asshole. I’d rather be with Gabriel.”

“You’re not wrong. But Balth’s a good guy. He just never knows when to shut up. And why Gabe?”

“He’s handsome.” She chuckled.

“Hey!” His voice was low as he tried to keep it down.

“Well, maybe not as handsome as you. You Lieutenant, are a fucking dreamboat.” She shrugged with a grin. He raised an eyebrow at her, but he didn’t protest.

“Alright, deal.” He was breathing with relief. “But that’s all? You don’t even wanna know why?”

“I know why.”

“You know?”

“Dean, I might be a girl, but I’m not dumb.”

“That’s not how I meant it and you know it.” He muttered.

She chuckled at that. “I know and honestly, I don’t want to make this harder for you.” She whispered softly and she looked down. “When will I be reassigned?”

“After we capture Brest. Well, I hope that we do. I talked it through with Novak. Actually he was the one asking because we’re still a couple of replacements short.”

“That’s fair.”

“I’m sorry.”

“Don’t be. I mean, can’t help it that you can’t concentrate when you see a cute private walking around…” She giggled lightly and Dean threw his head back, laughing as quietly as he could.

“How long until reveille?” She asked him, pecking his nose and he grabbed her tight, but still as gently as possible while he pressed his lips on hers.

“About an hour.” Dean whispered into her mouth and his breathing hitched as she ground her hips on his cock, making it harden more and more in his combats.

She kissed herself stupid on him and she loved how he tasted. Stale coffee and tobacco with a hint of camouflage cream. Her hands worked on his belt as he now held her head between his palms, his thumbs grazing her cheeks. “Bambi, you’re still weak. We shouldn’t.”

“I am but I wanna make you feel good, and I need to thank you for saving my life.” She sucked his tongue into her mouth as her hand wedged itself past his underwear and she took out his, by now, hard and leaking cock, her cold hand fisting around it, making him hitch his breathe as he let out a _fuck, cold_. And she giggled at that, making him kiss her harder.

“Should save your life more often,” He smiled against her slick mouth before he nibbled at her bottom lip. “If the reward is that good.”

“Now, don’t get over your head, Lieutenant.” She smirked, her hand squeezed around the head of his cock and draining it from pre cum. A little too harsh and Dean’s breath hitched in his throat.

She fisted his cock in her hand now, her thumb brushing against the sensitive head, thumbing over his slit and spreading pre cum around it as Dean groaned into her mouth. Her fingers swiftly work his lengths, using the right amount of pressure on him as he buckled his hips into her fist.

Jamie looked down, and spit on his dickhead before she massaged her spit along his lengths. They both found a rhythm pretty quickly, moving in sync in the dark foxhole as he tries not to make a sound that would get one of the man running to see what was going on in the confines of the darkness.

Dean sucked in her bottom lip before letting it go and then he whispered against her mouth “Shit, ah..”  and his eyes were squeezed shut and she loved that. Loved seeing him come undone, knowing that she’s the one who could make him feel this way. She captured his mouth, swallowing the groans and whimper that rolled of his tongue, drinking them in like her life depends on it. He was close, she knew.

He threw his head back, exposing his throat and she took advantage of it, licking a wet trail from his jaw down his throat. Her tongue brushed against his adam’s apple, feeling it bob underneath as he gulped for air. Her lips came to a halt at his pulse point. Dean let out a strangled moan and she sucked at the exposed skin, feeling his heart beating underneath her lips. Dean breathing ragged, as her hand squeezed tighter around the head of his cock, milking it, and there was a high pitched moan before she felt him coming in her hand, the sticky mess running along her fingers and Dean’s heart was beating fast under her touch.

He smiled at her as he came back to his senses, still panting hard, as if he just finished a damn suicide run. He held her her face between his palm and kissed her. “You just made a mess.” He mumbled, his lips only brushing against her slightly.

“Well, technically, Lieutenant, you made a mess.” She countered, already getting off him and took a bunch of leaves to throw them at Dean.

While he cleaned himself up, she sucked her fingers into her mouth, tasting Dean and she smiled when she saw him staring at her with his mouth wide agape. “What?”

“Nothing, Ma’am.” He shrugged and chuckled before lowering his gaze to continue cleaning and packing away his cock. She didn’t mind him and continued to lick her fingers clean. She can’t lie, she really liked the taste of him.

Dean finished cleaning up and tucked his dick back into his pants before he spread out his arms beckoning her over. “Come here.”

And that, she did, fitting herself between his thighs as if the space was entirely made for her. She put her jacket back on and leaned her sore back against his chest. Even through the thickness of both their combat jacket, she could feel his lean body. Dean wrapped his arms around her before he buried his face in her neck, breathing in her scent of probably musk and sweat but he didn’t complain.

“Do you,” he started to say but then he stopped. “Never mind, it’s not important.” His breathing was heavy next to her ear.

“Come on, say it.” She urged him on. She felt that there was nothing not worth sharing between them anymore. She felt as if she was going to lose the fight and she might as well enjoy the little time she has left.

“I mean,” Dean started to speak again, murmuring softly next to her ear. “Do you think, if we have met under other circumstances. There’d be a chance this could last?”

Her heart was beating, and she wanted to say something, but she didn’t. She didn’t know the answer if she’s being honest.

“You know,” He went on, not bothering that she didn’t answer his question. “Sometimes, I’d like to think that when this is all over… I mean,” He exhaled and inhaled audibly, as if he was doing it for encouragement. “If you’re in, I’d like to start over. Meeting again. Start all over with no war between us. You know, without people shooting at us all the fucking time.”

“Would you like to?” Finally she was able to say something.  _With me?_  She wanted to add but didn’t.

“Not gonna lie. If we’ll get out of here alive,” He pecked the crown of her head. “And you’re in, I’d love to, yes.”

“Then we can.” She smiled weakly, tilting her head back and he returned her smile before placing a kiss on her forehead.

She turned to the side a little and made herself more comfortable in his arms. “How’s Sam? Do you miss him?” It might not have been the right moment to ask this, but Jamie had the urge to know more about Sam. Know more about Dean.

“From the last letter he sent me, he’s fine. I hope he still is.” He chuckled, trying to joke, but she knew that he was worried. “Before I left for Basic, Sam had to promise me that he would look after the house and keep Dad out of trouble - and fucking stay in school.” Dean went on without being asked, and she knew that he was trying to open himself up to her. “He failed. Dad left after they had an argument. Which also meant that every source of income was cut off. Sam waited for almost six months, living on bare minimum, and I sent him all my wages. The pay was only enough to keep the house and he lived off his girlfriend’s parents. So that little shithead thought that he was not going to sit around and wait no more - mind you he had a highschool sweetheart who was worth staying back for - but since there’s no money coming in, he had to do something and so he followed me into the army. See where that got him.” He paused, probably thinking back to the day he learned that Sam had enlisted. “He could be glad that I wasn’t home to rip him a new one. Only had to promise me that he wouldn’t join the paratroopers.”

“Why not?” She heard that the paratroopers got a better pay and that’s why Jim signed up for it. To be able to afford their living cost.

“It’s only $50 a month more. Yeah, yeah, I know $50 is still fucking a lot to have, but it’s not worth jumping out of a plane for. Besides, I got promoted the week before he enlisted and my wages increased too. He didn’t have to kill himself by jumping out of a freaking airplane.” Dean picked at her hair, putting it aside a little so it wouldn’t prick his face before he buried it back into her neck.

“You’re not fond of airplanes, I take it?” She couldn’t help but grin.

“Hate ‘em. I mean, being in a tight space in the air? No thanks. Airplanes can crash.”

“Of course.”

“Shut up.”

“I get him.” She murmured and then Dean probably realized that it was also the same story as hers. “You know, Sam. I get him. I wouldn’t want to wait, too.”

“Yeah, I’d love the two of you to meet one day. You’ll get along just fine. You’d both be teaming up on me, I can already picture it.” He was laughing but then he stopped because he might have said too much. They’d never talked about the future. She didn’t even know if there was a future. For now, there was the present but yes, she liked the sound and the taste of a future.

“I’d love to meet Sam.” She smiled and she felt Dean tightening his arms around her.

“You know,” His voice was almost a whisper but she could feel the bass of it vibrating through two sets of combat jackets. “I’ve never thought about what would happen after. You know, I…uh.. I always thought that I’m going to do what I’m trained to do. Get my job done and then, if I’m lucky, and I won’t get dead, I’d get to go back home. Preferably together with Sam. We’d go back to our house. I will go back and work in the garage where I used to. I’ll make him go back to school and become a, hopefully, successful lawyer who will be able to bail my sorry ass out of jail.” He chuckled a little.

“We could go on and live our lives like we did before the war.” Dean stalled then, as if he only realizes again that he’s in the midst of a goddamn war. “He would maybe marry Jessica and we would all live together under the same roof. You know, the happy bunch.” The image of it made Dean smile into the back of her head.

“We would be happy because we would have each other. You’ve got to know, I’ve never had anyone else but Sam.” He exhaled hotly against her. “Since I was little and our mom died, it was only Sam and me because Dad was never around, always found excuses not to come home and be reminded of his wife’s death.”

Her eyes were welling up. It sounded so much like her family only that her father found a way out and knew that his children were better off without him.

“Don’t get me wrong, he did come home occasionally, but probably only to check if we were still alive. I took care of Sam. I taught him all the things that he needed to know. I cooked him a meal so that he would at least have something warm in his belly, even if it meant that I would go hungry. Dad would leave money before he would disappear again, so that we could at least buy essential things, but the money was never enough. Sam grew like a weed and he always needed new shoes, new clothes, textbooks, you name it. I dropped out of school because I needed a job to help us get by. Thankfully our neighbor had a garage, and I’m pretty good at fixing things. Sammy. Sam, I mean, because he doesn’t like me calling him Sammy, he’s the most important person in my life. There’s nothing I would put in front of him.”

Jamie didn’t blame him one bit. She knew that feeling. Her brothers were all she had, too.

Dean exhaled loudly and cleared his throat, “But now,” He placed his mouth on her head, murmuring the rest, as if he was ashamed to say it out loud. Or maybe he was afraid that if he said it loud, it wouldn’t come true. “Now? I think that I still wanna go home. Still preferably together with Sam, but also with you. It might sound crazy, and I don’t even know if I’m allowed to say it or how you would take it, but I want you there. With me. With us.”

After a while Dean chuckled lightly. “You know, Sam once asked me how many I need to save, and I answered with all of them.” He cleared his throat after a pause. “But now… I know that I can’t save them all. It’s impossible. Doesn’t matter how hard I try, I can’t save them all. But I wanna save you.”

Dean kissed the top of her head, his lips lingered on her short hair. She felt something wet dripping on her head, but she didn’t move, didn’t turn around, didn’t say anything. Instead, she put her hands on his arms, urging him to hug her tighter and then he buried his head back in the crook of her neck.. “Fuck, Bambi…”


	10. Chapter 10

**August 20th, 1944**

 

The morning came and right after reveille, his platoon stood at attention as Castiel barked out his orders. They were moving out pretty soon after, in an endless convoy of trucks. Dean guessed that they were about a day away from Brest, but as slow as the convoy moved, it could take them longer, maybe even two. If they would march, they’d probably reach it faster.

Dean couldn’t say that he’d anticipated that move. There was just so much to do and they were still more than a day away.

Bambi’d been doing better, although she hadn’t been sleeping enough. Dean commanded her to take a nap on the truck, which she agreed to do, but not without an eye roll. Those damned eyes. He hoped that her back would heal properly before they reached Brest.

Some soldiers marched along the convoy, and some were sprawled out on the flatbed of a deuce-and-a-half. They took turns rotating their marching duties to save energy for Brest.

Dean was busy walking from one truck to the other, taking and giving orders. By the time he could take a little break, Bambi was asleep and snoring in the truck bed. She was curled up against a corner. Dean took a seat a couple of feet from her, smiling as he watched her. He didn’t know if he was lucky or a stupid son of a bitch for falling in love in the midst of war. Hell, he didn’t even know what love felt like so he didn’t have an answer to that.

The convoy stopped at a small village in the outskirts of Morlaix for the night, and Castiel directed them to their harbor area. Dean walked and talked with the men of his platoon, checking if they had anything, telling them to restock on their ratios and ammos.

“Sir, are we finally marching into Brest tomorrow?” Private Fitzgerald asked with an easy smile on his face. It made Dean wonder how someone could be so happy about the fact that they were going to be shot at.

“Yes.” It was a short answer, but Dean had nothing else to add onto that.

His platoon dug a couple of foxholes to share and Dean took a walk through the village. It probably used to be a really nice village, too, before the war destroyed it. What was left were buildings that used to be a hotel and a couple of stores. The Battalion staff were occupying the rooms, though, leaving them empty handed, and Dean couldn’t really remember the last time he had a roof over his head. A real one, not some makeshift foxhole roof. Of course he had a roof in Vire, but already it seemed like ages ago.

He walked back after talking with the platoon leaders from Fox and Easy company who had set up their harbor area on the other side of the village. When he got closer to his platoon, Dean could already hear the heated exchange.

“Hey!” Dean barked, breaking into a jog. “Hey! What’s going on?” He reached their campfire where he saw Bambi standing there red faced with a frown across her forehead and already Dean thought of the worst. Was her secret out? Had she been exposed? Was it his fault?

“Bambi here, sir,” Harvelle started to speak, lifting his chin to point it towards Bambi. “We received sentry rota for tonight and we took Bambi off, because he’s obviously still weak and we’d rather he stays put, because we need him to be ready tomorrow. He was having none of it.”

“Goddamnit, I’m fine! I can do it if y’all would just let me! It’s just sentry for god’s sake. It’s not like I’m going to fight Krauts alone while y’all are sleeping. Geez!” Bambi hissed and threw her arms up in the air dramatically. Dean had a hard time holding in his laugh.

He understood that she was sick of being treated like she was delicate, but it also showed that his platoon took care of their own and Dean couldn’t lie, he was proud of that. They were family, and he couldn’t wish for a better support system away from home. He also made sure that his men behaved. After Omaha and before Saint Lo, there had been quite of a common thing that the soldiers were passing along women they freed from the Nazis and even though the girls were very grateful and acted that way, Dean could see in their eyes that they were not really enjoyed being passed along. He made sure that his soldiers knew that if he caught wind of anyone mistreating a woman that he would personally kick their asses back to Virginia. “Think about how you would treat your sisters, mothers, grandmothers.” He said to them, and then Harvelle made a face.

“Thanks for that, Lieutenant. I’ll never look at a woman the same again.”

Dean shrugged at that. If it got his men to respect them, then he did the right thing. There were a couple of trouble makers in Balthazar’s platoon who were out of line and, as luck had it, they ended up with an itching rash on their dicks for days. They wouldn’t stop complaining and whining until they reached Saint Lo and could be treated by experienced medical staff. Dean chuckled when he heard about it. Karma was a bitch and they deserved it.

“We’re just looking out for you.” Tran said, crossing his arms as if he was a little hurt that Bambi didn’t appreciate what they’re all doing for her.

She didn’t say anything, instead she looked down to her boots, but Dean could see that she was trembling. She’s probably even close to crying.

Dean cleared his throat to speak. “So, you really wanna do it, private?” He asked her, and she looked up at him. Her eyes were a little red, but she stood there, unfazed and he knew that she was not going to back down.

“Yes, sir.” The voice came out a little broken at first, but she caught herself quickly.

“Fine. Then leave him in.” Dean didn’t want to argue with her. He knew that she was not going to back down. Not the Bambi he knew. No, the Bambi he knew was not scared of challenges. She was not intimidated and wouldn’t let a sore back ruin the chance of making herself purposeful and help out in any way she could. “Put me in with him. Any other questions?” Dean asked, looking around at his men.

Dean could see a Harvelle’s eyes. They were not pleased, but Dean ignored it. “No, sir.” Harvelle answered with a frown, already putting in Bambi’s name for sentry.

“Good. As you were,” Dean nodded at all of them before he went on with his duties.

Castiel sent a runner up to find him. Dean ran into him when he was rounding the corner to the Battalion staff building. “Sir, Lieutenant Novak wants to speak to you, sir!”

“Where is he?”

“Company CP, sir. At the old bakery.”

“Thank you, private.” Dean said, and made his way toward the bakery.

To say that the streets were confusing was an understatement. Dean remembered that he walked past a bakery before, but now he finds himself lost. He took another turn which led him to a cul de sac, and he couldn’t believe that he got lost twice. Eventually he arrived at the office and was probably already late.

Cas chuckled when he saw him outside of the bakery’s still intact display window. “You got lost, didn’t you?” He immediately said when Dean stepped in.

“How do you know?” He answered a little snappishly. Dean was tired and still had so many things to organized that he couldn’t delegate. He didn’t have time to get lost or patience left for Cas. It better be something very fucking important.

“I get lost every time.” Cas shrugs. “That’s why I’m staying and not going anywhere until we’re leaving. Imagine the CO who can’t even find his own damn office.” Cas walked over from his sand table to sit back on the corner of his desk. He took a deep breath before he fumbled with his cigarette tin and held it out to Dean. “You want one?”

“No, thanks.” The reply came too quick and it made Cas raise an eyebrow at him.

Dean didn’t smoke that much anymore. Actually, he stopped completely when Bambi got hurt. The last cigarette he had was when they were sitting around the campfire while he was heating up food for her and then, it was only because he didn’t want to be rude when one of his men offered him one from their already declining cigarettes in their tin packs. He gave up smoking for her, still remembering that she told him in her foxhole that she didn’t smoke and he didn’t as well, out of courtesy. He was going to stop smoking once he was back on American soil anyway - if he ever got back, that is. It just happened sooner than he thought it would be. Giving up smoking for her was not that big of a deal, and Dean would give up way more, come to think of it.

Cas shrugged as Dean denied the cigarette and lit one up for himself. He inhaled deeply, breathing out blue smoke that rose up and disappeared in the air.

“Why I called you in,” Cas cleared his throat and Dean watched him. “Jamie Blum.”

“What’s with him?” Dean shifted from one foot to the other.

“His brothers all put in his name to be contacted in case of emergency. And he’s the only one in their will. Since he’s been here, it took the news longer to arrive.”

“Cas,” Dean’s getting impatient. “Cut it. What’s wrong?”

“His brother. Jameson Blum, he’s with the 5th Infantry. He’s been MIA since they attacked and Captured Angers more than a week ago.”

Dean didn’t say anything. His heart was racing and already he thought of how he’d be able to tell Bambi.

“That’s not all.” Cas continued and Dean’s heart sank deeper. “His brother Jack, who was with the 1st Infantry, didn’t make it past D-Day.”

“Fuck.” Dean muttered under his breath. Suddenly he wanted to smoke again. Or throw up. He was undecided.

“Yeah, I don’t know if I should tell Blum that, or if you wanted to do it, since I know that you’re so close.”

Dean frowned then, looking back up at Cas. “What do you mean?”

“Dean, I have always admired you. How you work with your men.. You’re family, and I was always jealous of the relationship you had with them. I wanted to be like you, leading a platoon and have men literally line up to die for me.” Cas chuckled lightly. “You just don’t see it, do you? If you’d say jump, they wouldn’t even ask how high, they’d do the highest they can. If you go into battle face first, they are the ones who have your back no matter what. They’d all follow you, even it if meant that they’re following you to their death. They’d even thank you for it, Dean.”

“Ah, come on.”

“It’s true. I still think you’d have been a better CO.”

“Bullshit, Cas. You’re our fearless leader. Me, for one, I’d follow you no matter what. And honestly, I trust you with my life and the lives of my men.”

Cas walked around the desk and put a hand on Dean’s shoulder. “Thanks.”

“Only telling the truth, is all.” Dean shrugged, smirking a little to cheer his friend up, and Cas smiled back.

“So, you want to tell Blum or shall I?”

There was no way that Dean was going to let her hear the devastating news from Cas. Even though he didn’t really want to tell her himself. “No, I’ll tell him.” Dean was already thinking of the  _how_.

 

***

 

It was close to his sentry duty at oh-one-hundred-hours, and Dean would see Bambi again. He squeezed in a nap, but he was so anxious about telling her, that it took him longer to fall asleep. When he finally fell asleep, he had to get up again. To say that he was exhausted was an understatement. Plus he snuck in to nap in Sneezy’s foxhole, because Dopey was on sentry and god, that man snored. There were times that Dean thought the foxhole would collapse on them. So sleeping in the same hole with Sneezy, that was a thing Dean ain’t going to do again. When Dean rounded up the corner he could already spot her sitting on a big stone at the most Eastern spot of their sentry point.

She sat there, looking out at the dark sky when Dean approached.

“You’re late.” She said, but she didn’t look back or up at him.

Dean sat down beside her. “Sorry,” He said. “Sneezy wouldn’t let me nap.”

“Maybe you should dig up your own hole for a change, Lieutenant.” She tilted her head to look at him then and she smiled. Dean cursed himself. She looked happy, relaxed, and he was about to ruin all of that when he told Bambi about her brothers.

Dean chuckled awkwardly, “Yeah, maybe I’ll try that.”

They sat beside each other for a while in silence, before he took her hand, threading his fingers through hers. His thumb painted soothing circles on her knuckles. “Jamie, I need to tell you something.”

She looked over to him and went still. It was a clear night, the moon shone above them and painted her in a beautiful glow. “You wanna break up with me for real, Lieutenant?”

“Bambi,” He said, already annoyed and ready to deny it.

“‘Cause if you do it’s alright. I get it, you know. No hard feelings because war and all. And I’m a man and you’re not queer and –”

“Jamie! Listen to me!” He hissed, making her flinch and stop rambling. He didn’t want to hear that from her, let alone then.

She was gasping, not used to being told that she should shut her mouth. She was spitfire and damn, Dean sometimes hated that she was so tough.

“Cas,” he said as Bambi settled herself back into listening. “I mean, Novak, he called me in. Telling me that your brothers all put you down as their emergency contact. They had trouble reaching you, because they didn’t know that you were here.”

“And?”

Dean could feel her fingers squeezing his hand unconsciously. She probably didn’t even know that she was almost hurting him with how hard she was holding on.

“Your brother, Jack. He..uh.. shit, Jamie. He didn’t make it past D-Day. He fell at Omaha beach.” Dean didn’t want to even think that Jack might have been one of the fallen soldiers that Dean had to climb over to retrieve a new rifle. Or maybe Jack was in one of the landing craft that didn’t even made it to shore. Or maybe Jack didn’t get the chance to get off that landing craft and fight when it stopped at the shore, because they had been decimated by fucking Krauts, sitting in their high bunker forts. Dean tried to shake the thought out of his head and he felt his heart sinking again when he looked over to her. Jamie had tears running down her cheeks, but she did nothing to brush them away. She also didn’t say anything. Just stared at him as if she’s trying to let the words sink in.

After a long while, she repeated her brother’s name. “Jack.”

Dean nodded. “Fuck, I’m sorry, Bambi, you know I am.”

“It’s ok.” She said and turned her head to look ahead. The sky on the horizon lit up. There was a fight in the distance. There was always a fight somewhere.

“It’s not all, Jamie.”  _Fuck_ , he hated doing this. Hated it with a passion. Then there was a squeeze of Jamie’s hand again, but she didn’t turn her head to meet his eyes. Dean mentally thanked her for that, because he wouldn’t know how to tell her more devastating news while she looked him dead in the eye.

“Jameson. He’s been MIA since Angers. They haven’t found him.”

She brushed away her tears now with the back of her dirty hand, leaving a streak of dirt on her cheek. “He’s my twin, you know that?” It was sudden, Dean wasn’t prepared. He thought that she’d break down and cry, but she didn’t.

“He is?”

She tilted her head towards Dean, grinning. “Yeah. I’m older. He’s my little brother. Not so little because he’s way taller. I got here because of him.”

So, that was how she got in. Dean could imagine Jamie pestering her brother to put down her name. Annoying the shit out of him and being a pain in the ass until Jameson did it. Maybe she didn’t do it with words, but she could sure as hell do it with with her eyes. He couldn’t blame him. Dean knew that if Bambi sets her mind on something, there wasn’t a way that she’d back out of it.

“I’m sorry.” Dean didn’t know what else to say.

“It’s fine. I know that he’s still alive.” She sounded hopeful, as if she really believed that he was alive. Maybe she was right, Dean wouldn’t know. Maybe the Krauts got him. But if Bambi believed it, he wanted to hold on to that, too.

“He is.” Dean said, and sat there in silence with her, his thumb circling on her knuckles.

There was a long pause where they sat and listened to their surroundings. The harbor area was quiet, except for some whispering.

“I’d like to go swimming,” She said out of the blue and Dean raised an eyebrow, wanting to ask her why she was thinking of swimming right now, but he didn’t. He soon realized that it was a way for her to cope and she wasn’t completely different from him. Burying it deep inside and thinking of other things,  _that_ , he could.“You know, warm sand underneath my feet. The salt of the ocean in my hair. That’s what we did every so often, went to the beach with the whole family. I mean, my brothers and I.”

“That sounds nice.” Dean agreed. He never did that with Sam. He was too busy, even working on weekends to get by.

She turned her head to meet his eyes. And Jamie smiled despite the tears that were still running down. “What do you think, can we go to the beach once this is all over?”

Dean thought about it. Imagined it. “I…uh.. I’m not too fond of beaches. You know..” To be frank, he hated them since D-Day, but he was not going to tell her that. He wouldn’t tell her that he couldn’t swim, either. It had never been an issue and he could crawl like a dog to keep his head above water, unless his gear would pull him down, but swimming was not really his thing. His dad never taught him and so he couldn’t teach Sam. D-Day was the most swimming Dean did in his life. He was a lucky son of a bitch to not drown.

“I know.” Jamie said, looking ahead. “Would it help if I tell you that I really have a nice two piece swimming suit. My midriff exposed an all.” She grinned cheekily before she turned to face Dean again and he couldn’t help but chuckle.

“Bambi, you trying to seduce me with indecent images of your exposed skin?” Dean tried to sound shocked and took her hand, squeezing it. “I don’t even know if I would agree to it if you walked around naked.”

“With all due respect, sir, I’m going to change your mind.”

Dean grinned at that. “I wanna see you try.”

Later, they walked their sentry route in silence. His knuckles occasionally brushed against hers, and he felt her fingers holding on to him for a fragment of a second. That was enough. Enough for him to know that she was there, but Dean couldn’t shake the feeling that it could be him. Sam was his emergency name and he was Sam’s. It could very well be one of them down the line or both. He didn’t know if he would react as well and composed as Bambi did. He just knew that he’d like for her to be there for him, to catch him when he fell. The same as he was trying to provide a safety net for her. As good as he could.

Dean sat in a shell scraping later on as Bambi made her way to her foxhole. He fished out loose papers, and the flashlight from his webbing and put it in between his mouth as he began to write out a letter to Sam.

 

_Dear Sam,_

_Don’t worry about it. It wasn’t as stupid as I thought it would be. If it helps, it might even be more stupid, but it’s nothing for you to be worried about. Promise._

_Also, don’t worry about Anna. I already penned a letter to her a couple of days ago. I guess I have just been holding out to the last straw of home, and I didn’t want her to be mad. Maybe, I thought that my feelings for her could change once I got back. I see now that it wasn’t fair of me to have kept her as a lifeboat for so long. A lifeboat for when I would sink and there would be nobody around to help me back to the shore, because I know that you’re having someone and well, I was kind of worried that I’d be all alone. And by the way, I also told her not to contact you again._

_Well, yes. You have my blessings for asking Jess to marry you - not that you ever needed or cared about my blessings anyway, bitch! I hope we can go home soon, Sammy. I never wanted to go home more than I do now. Mom’s ring is yours. Take good care of it, alright? Also, ask her old man first. That’s the way to go, dummy. Also maybe it’s too much to ask for, but I kinda wanna be there when you do it. At least I wanna be the one you come home to after she said yes. And don’t be afraid. She’ll say yes. I’m sure of that. I mean, why would she say no? You’re intelligent, you’re kind, you’re a fucking winner. I’m just sorry that you aren’t as handsome as me._

_You remember Bambi, right? He has three brothers out here in Normandy. One of them was MIA and one of them didn’t make it past D-Day. I had to tell him the bad news today, because he’s the sole emergency contact for all his brothers. They thought that he’d stay at home - like I thought you would stay at home - and now Regiment staff had trouble finding him. That’s why it took them so long. Shit Sam, I had to tell him the devastating news. It was one of the hardest thing I ever had to do. It was certainly harder than killing Krauts, and it made me think of you and that we also only have each other. I don’t want Cas to tell me about you. I really don’t. So I beg you, take good care, alright? Always, always be aware of your surroundings, be alerted, and don’t do anything stupid!_

_I also want to tell you that I’ve met a girl. She’s beautiful and a sweetheart, but she’s also a spitfire. I’ve known her for almost 2 months, kept her a secret until I was ready to tell you about her, and I think that now’s the time. She’s like you, Sammy, and probably the reason I wanna go home so bad. I wanna go home with you, Sam, but I also want her with us, if you won’t mind, of course. You two would get along great. She’s tough like nails and she probably could drink you under the table - not me though, because I’m tougher - obviously. She also won’t take shit from me, just like you. Please don’t ask how I met her. I can not tell you that yet. But I.. fuck, I don’t even know how love feels like. I just know that I have this feeling in my gut when I see her smile, and I wanna keep trying to let her keep that beautiful smile on her face. She means a whole damn lot to me. Is that enough? Is that what you call love? Is that how Jess makes you feel? Because I have no idea. I can’t help but think, what if this is all the love I’ll ever get? I mean, we’re fighting a war, and I fall in love? This is not how it was supposed to be, right? But again, what if this is all the love that I’ll ever know? What if I die tomorrow? What if it hurts like hell? What if she decides that I’m not good enough? I’m at a loss here and I’m confused._

_Be safe, Sammy! We’re going home soon, bitch!_

_Lieutenant Dean Winchester_

 

Jamie still felt sore all over. Not only her body hurt - to be frank, it hurts less and less - but her heart hurt like hell. Jack. Shit. She missed him terribly, and Jameson. She knew deep down in her gut, that Jameson was still alive, and she hoped that they’ll find him soon. Please, at least god should give her that much. She’d suffered enough.

She crawled down the foxhole she shared with Trenton and shook the private awake. “Trenton, you’re late for your fucking sentry!” She said louder than she should and he jerked up, almost knocking their heads together in the process.

“Fuck, fuck!” Trenton’s hand scrambled around in the dark in search for his helmet and rifle and was out before she could say anything else. He was already two minutes late.

Jamie settled on her side of the foxhole and she couldn’t help but notice the stinging scent of cum floating around in their foxhole. Trenton sure used his time wisely and jerked off. She just hoped that he stayed on his side during it.

She curled herself into a fetal position, her face facing the dirt wall. She tried not to think about Jack and Jameson. The only one who was still out there, Jim and strangely enough, she fell asleep immediately.

 

***

 

“Hey, Bambi.” She was still half asleep and couldn’t put two and two together. The voice was low, hushed.

“What? Do we have to get up already?” She said, thinking that it was Trenton who was back from his sentry to wake her up for reveille.

“Shhh..” There was a hush, and she felt someone settle down next to her, curling up his body against hers. “Not yet, you can sleep.” She could feel Dean put his arms around her. He whispered close to her ear. He buried his face in her neck, breathing hotly against the crook of it. He placed a kiss on her cheek before he settled his back down.

It wasn’t long before she heard him again. Dean lifted his head, looking and sniffling around.  “Does it smell like cum in here?”

She broke into a soft laughter and turned herself around in his grip. “Yeah. Trenton’s horny all the time. He does it a couple of times a day.”

“Good thing he doesn’t know that he rooms with a girl then.” Dean smirked, grazing his nose along hers as he tightened his grip around her body and pulled her into a kiss.

Jamie didn’t want to tell Dean that Trenton knew. It didn’t matter. She and Trenton were a damn good team now. She thought he was weird at first, but Trenton, apart from his crazy sex drive, was the only one who she felt comfortable enough to confide in. He promised to keep hersecret. She had no doubt that her secret was safe with Trenton. She knew that there would be a time when she would tell Dean, but not then. She was too exhausted.

It was the first time she kissed Dean for what seemed like forever. His lips were still as soft as she remembered, and it might have sounded crazy, but it made her forget everything. She parted her lips a little for him to lick into and placed her hand on his chest. She could feel his heart beating underneath his jacket. It was in that moment that she wished she would be able to stop the clock from ticking.

Dean cupped her face with one hand, his fingers brushing against her cold cheek. She didn’t know why, but her bottled emotions made their way to the surface, and she could feel tears falling down her face.

He broke the kiss then, looking at her, as his thumb brushed away the tears from her cheeks. “Hey, shhh..” Dean kissed her forehead. “I’m here. Alright, I’m here.”

Jamie nodded, and then he kissed her again. “Come on, let’s take a nap.” He tried to smile, and she could see that it upset him, too. He made her turn around and settle back into place. Dean hugged her from behind. “Just have to make sure that you’re miles away from me when Trenton comes back.”

“You have no idea, Lieutenant. Trenton is sneaking up on me in his sleep all the time. So I think it’s not his place to judge.”

“What’s that?” Dean growled out the question. “Should I be worried?”

“Should you?” She asked, giggling to herself. “I mean, Trenton is touch starved. He’s horny all the time, but he’s good. Also, I think you’re sleeping in his cum now.”

Dean stalled and hitched his breathing as he craned his neck to take a look around the hole, cringing his nose.

“I slept in worse.” He said after a while, shrugging.


	11. Chapter 11

**August 22nd, 1944**  

They made it to the front line of the German defense, but they had trouble getting through. It was no surprise; Brest was heavily guarded and protected. The last of the Germans defending their stronghold. They should know by now that their army was crumbling, but they still had to follow orders and Dean thought that they were in fact, not much different than he was.

“What are your orders, sir?” Dean screamed back to Castiel who was holding the phone receiver in his hand.

“Move up, Winchester! We’re holding the line.” Castiel shouted back at him before calling out for another radio man. “Radio! On me!” Apparently he had trouble reaching Battalion.

They knew that they needed to try to break through but it almost seemed impossible. They weren’t even sure if they were at the right position. Dean took it from the way Castiel walked nervously up and down the line, screaming for different radio men until he could reach someone to  _“fucking confirm their position.”_ They were Castiel’s words, not Dean’s.

There was endless shouting all around them, as mortar shells rained down on them. All Dean could think about was, _too soon, too damn soon_. They hadn’t even radio’d in and confirmed their position, but already, he found himself in the midst of fire. Dean knew that they were too close. Moving up would mean suicide, but again, Dean was not here to question the decisions of his CO. He was there to follow orders and sometimes he couldn’t help but think of how ironic it was that he, of all people, followed orders. He never was good at it. The only order he’d been following for all his life was his Dad’s order.  _Watch out for Sam_.

Dean looked back to see Castiel. Cas was crouched down in the dirt, a radio man beside him as they both frantically tried to reach 2nd Battalion staff to tell them their coordinates. Castiel’s hand fidgeted wildly with his map as he screamed into the receiver, making himself heard over the shelling.

Dean’s platoon advanced a little, hiding behind bushes and the little trees as they laid down a base of fire. “Move up!” He called to his men, but all he wanted was to pull the fuck back.

The ground shook with impacts of mortar shells and goddammit, private Henriksen! Dean could only watch how Henriksen’s lifeless body lay in the dirt as a mortar hit him. He died on impact. Dean lost another man.

Dean was lost in thoughts and teary eyed when a voice pulled him back to reality.

“Winchester! Pull back! We need to pull back!” Castiel shouted over the roaring of the heavy guns being fired at them and Dean passed the message along, breaking into a run to get all his men to pull back.

“Pull back! Pull back now! We need to pull back!” He screamed on the top of his lungs, running around, collecting lost soldiers of his platoon.

He pulled at a jacket of Private Visyak, who was crouched on the ground, his leg hit by shrapnel. Dean hauled him along while he shouted for the others to fall back to the their line of cover. He half hauled Visyak over his shoulder and broke into a jog, with the private hopping on his good foot, when a mortar shell went down next to Visyak. A explosion so bright it hurt Dean’s eyes and on instinct, he crouched down, put his hand over his head and waited for his death.

Death didn’t come.

Dean tried to open up his eyes again. He was still breathing, his heart was still beating. He blinked then, but soon realized, that he couldn’t see.

He didn’t know what was wrong. Where he was. What was going on. The only thing he knew for certain was, that his ears were ringing and he was alive. “Visyak!” He shouted out, but his voice was cracked and broken. Visyak didn’t answer. Dean blinked again.

_Fuck, he can’t see a damn thing!_

There were boots running around him, but he couldn’t see.  _Right, left, right, left, right, left_. He felt his eyes watering and he knew there were tears running down his cheeks, even though he couldn’t feel them. He wanted to shout out, but nothing came out. His mouth was too dry to form syllables.

“Lieutenant! Sir?” Someone called out to him and was close to his face, he knew that they were close. “Come on, Lieutenant!” Hands were on his shoulders. Where was he?

_“Just one smile, not everything has to be so goddamn serious all the time.”_

He still couldn’t see a damn thing and he was growing mad. The voice was faint in his ears but soothing all the same. It was distant, like a memory. Like they were far away.  _Milligan? Get back in line, kid! Get back—_  

“Sir? You alright?” He heard it now. It was Bambi. It was  _her_. His hearing was slowly coming back. The ringing was less distinct. She was pulling him back. He blindly grabbed for her.

“Bambi?” His throat was burning as the pushed out her name.

Dean blinked again.

Nothing but darkness.

“Dean. It’s me. Come on, we need to get you to cover.” Her voice was calm and he heard it clear as day, all the shouting around him was pushed to the back. She didn’t sound scared at all.

“Bambi, I can’t see. I can’t fucking see!” He coughed out his words, his hands gripped the front of her combat jacket tightly and then he felt her hands on his cheeks. Her thumbs painting soothing circles on his scruff.

She cradled his face then, her fingers firm on his skin. “Dean, it’s fine. You’re fine, okay? Listen to me, concentrate on my voice. It’s okay. I’m here. I’m not leaving. You’re alright, okay? Let’s get you to safety. I’m here.” She pulled him up then, taking his arm and swung it around her shoulder. She put her other arm around his waist and she guided him to cover. They ran and Dean still couldn’t see a thing, but he trusted her.

It wasn’t long until they reached their line of cover and Shurley was on Dean immediately, giving him water to drink and rinsed out his eyes. “Temporary blindness, sir. The only explanation that seemed plausible right now. You’ve been too close to the explosion and saw it eye to eye. It’s going to get better, you need to rest for the time being. We need to check properly when we can. I can take you back to the next medical tent.”

“I’m not leaving.” Dean answered sharply.

“I was just –” Shurley tried to say.

“No.” Dean knew that he was a fool for staying, since he couldn’t see a damn thing, but he wasn’t going to leave his men behind. Not in a million years.

The explosion.

Dean remembered now.

“Visyak?” He asked, even though he already knew the answer.

“He took the blow for you, sir.”

 _Shit_.

 

***

 

“They want us to continue holding the line.” Castiel said in the evening briefing. “Dig in for the night. I want soldiers who are not on sentry duties to sleep as much as possible, we need to be ready tomorrow. Any questions?”

When none of them said anything, Castiel dismissed them, but before Dean could go back to his platoon, Cas called out for him. “Dean?”

Dean turned around again. “Sir?”

“How’s your sight?”

Dean blinked, as if he was testing it. “Better. It’s getting better every minute, Cas.”

“Good. I need you there tomorrow, Dean.”

“I know.”

“Okay, get some rest.”

Dean nodded at his CO and walked out into a clear night. He stopped short, looking up at the stars. He could see them, and it was a wonder that he was still there.

He walked the short distance where all the remaining men of Baker company were spread over a tiny stretch of soil. Men were still digging up foxholes and shell scrapings for the night. Some of them sat around. Light and noise discipline was on so, apart from whispering, it was quiet.

Dean went from men to men of his platoon, asking them if everything was alright, and they asked him the same in return. “I’m fine,” was the only thing he said. The only thing he could say. Honestly, he wouldn’t know how to explain that he didn’t want to be here. That he didn’t want to attack a strong held city, knowing that they’ll lose more men. That he didn’t want to die. He needed to keep their morale up and not bring it down with him.

He couldn’t see Bambi amongst them, so he looked around. There was a dark figure sitting just out their harbor point. When Dean walked closer, he could see her sitting in the dirt, her arms around her knees, pulling them up into a hug as she looked up at the stars.

“How are you?” Dean sat down next to her, his knees touching her outer thighs.

She tilts her head a little and Dean could see that she had been crying. Her eyes were still shiny, wet and red rimmed. He wanted to put his arms around her, god knew how much he wanted to, but he couldn’t.

Her voice was soft when she spoke, and Dean leaned in to hear her better. “I..I thought I’d lost you today out there,” She sniffed, letting go of her knees, and she put her hands in her lap.

 _Fuck this._  Dean was itching to touch her, so he reached over, taking her hand in his as he laced his fingers with hers.

“I was already back by the tree lines in our line of cover, when I saw you grabbing Visyak. And then I watched as the bomb went down. He threw himself over the mortar and you were just watching that bomb. Then I ran against the stream of men rushing towards me.”

Dean swallowed the lump that build up in his throat. He didn’t want to imagine her running to save him. The image of her running back into the line of straight fire just to save him made him nauseous. So many things could have happened.

“When I reached you, I saw that you were alive and then you said you couldn’t see,” She took a deep breath. “I was relieved, but also I was scared shitless.” Dean could hear her chuckle. It was an uneasy one. “I wasn’t scared of the shells and mortars, though. Not even scared that you might have lost your sight and could never see me. I still see you, that’s enough. But I was scared that I could lose you. I know we’re at war, and I could lose you every minute but it was real right then.”

Dean was fighting against his own tears. His eyes stung and he could feel the weight in his throat, threatening to spill out.

“I don’t wanna lose you, Dean. I lost so much already. I don’t wanna lose you, too.” Her voice shook as she talked through tears.

Dean brushed away the tears that ran down his own cheeks with the back of his hand.

“This is fucked up.” She tried to joke, tried to laugh through her tears before she got serious again, and then she whispered low. “What you said… about the after… Do you really think I could fit in there? I mean, do you see me there? With you and Sam? Would you really want me there?”

Dean cleared his throat, swallowing down the tears that wanted to come to the surface. “Shit, Bambi, it’s the only thing I want right now.” He paused to brush away another tear off his face. “Well… except for maybe win this fucking war, but only because I wanna go home. I want you to be there.”

She smiled at him through her tears. “Then we’ll make it work.” She squeezed his hand reassuringly.

“We will.” He placed her hand to his lips and kissed it. He didn’t really care if anyone saw it. In that moment, he was past caring. Dean sighed. “When I couldn’t see a damn thing, I still heard you. Clear as day, and all I wished for was to see your face again. I was scared of not seeing your face. How dumb was that? I wasn’t scared of what would happen, as long as I could see your face, even if it’s for one last time.”

She chuckled at that amidst her tears, because they both just didn’t know what they should do. If they should laugh or cry. Laugh because they were alive or cry because they almost lost the most important thing they had. “I swear, Lieutenant, if you pull that again, I’m kicking your ass back to America.”

Dean laughed at that, and they fell back into talking easy before it got more serious again.

“What do you think about Brest?” She asked him.

Dean didn’t want to lie. Not to her. “Castiel said it’s big and it will take time. Maybe a week, maybe two. We’ll have to find the rest of the 29th, but for now, our order’s to hold the line. Shit Jamie, it’s going to be nothing like we’ve done before. We have to be careful not to lose more people.”

She didn’t say anything, instead she just looked down, nodding at herself - or him - Dean didn’t know.

“Alright, get some sleep. Cas would rip me a new one if I won’t let my men sleep.” Dean said, letting go of her hand.

She got up then and placed a hand on his shoulder. She bent down to whisper to him. “I’m not a man.” She kissed his cheek before she walked back to her friends.

No, she definitely wasn’t a man, but a woman Dean’s slowly falling in love with. But who was he kidding? He was already head over heels. He was just afraid to tell her that.

 

 

 

**August 26th, 1944**

They got attached to the rest of the 29th a couple of hours before and were already well into their assault on the terrain to the north-west of Brest. The 116th were with the main attack force.

Jamie crouched in the trenches, Trenton was breathing heavily beside her before he looked to her. “Fuck Jamie, what are we even doing?” Trenton muttered, a little annoyed because the German defense wouldn’t let them get a damn break.

“I don’t know? Killing Krauts?” Jamie replied, her rifle pulled up to her shoulder as they watched the line and waited for a command.

“How can we kill them if we don’t even see them?” Trenton hissed. He was maybe a little annoyed. He was right, though. They don’t see them. All they heard was constant gunfire. “Fuck, and now I have a boner, too. I tell you my body… If I should die, I wanna donate it to science. Maybe find out why I have a boner all the fucking time.”

She laughed at that, sending Trenton a side eye and he laughed with her.

“You..uh.. wanna help me out, Jamie?” Trenton asked, raising an eyebrow as he palmed at his bulge through his combats.

Her eyes flew to his crotch, the cock visibly tenting the material of his pants. She cocked her eyebrow, looking back up at him. “We’ve been through this, haven’t we? The answer is still no, Trenton.”

“Alright, just thought I’d ask.” Trenton shrugged, putting his hand back to his rifle. “I just want a break so I can beat off.”

“Yeah, yeah. Now hold the fucking line, Trenton.”

Jamie could hear Castiel yelling for the platoon leaders in the distance. That meant that they would have to move soon, or finally do something else other than watching the damn fucking line.

All of a sudden they heard a piercing hiss and someone yelled “Incoming!” and everyone ducked for cover. Men were laying flat on the ground, repeatedly shouting “Incoming! Incoming!”

Jamie moved lower in her trench, and sure enough, there were mortars hitting the ground so hard it took Jamie’s feet right from under her, and she landed in the dirt, ass first.

She and Trenton waited it out and when it seemed as clear that it ever could be, apart from the usual sounds of shells being fired in the distance, they scrambled together, taking back their positions.

“Trenton?” Jamie asked with a smirk.

“Yeah?”

“Still got your hard on?”

“Fuck, yeah.”

Jamie rolled her eyes. Trenton really was a supernatural being.

 

***

 

“Assemble, on me!” Dean yelled from the treeline and they all scrambled out of their holes and trenches to meet their leader in the back. Dean took a knee, a map spread on the ground. “We’re going in, cutting along their left flank and set up a base of fire from the next hedgerows. He points his index finger on the map. We’ve got to keep four platoon covered while they take out the machine-gunners.”

“Copy, sir.” Harvelle replied and the others joined in.

“Good, let’s move!” Dean shouted, folding the map. He tucked it back in his webbing, looked, and nodded at Jamie before they moved out.

Four platoon cleared the machine-gunners and there was the sound of a freight train that ripped the air. “Pull back! Pull back!” Castiel Novak was heard yelling as the shell of the 644th Tank Destroyer’s anti-tank gun hit the German line.

Fucking Finally. Jamie thought and ran back, as Dean yelled for his people to fall back to let the 644th do their work. Castiel had been in contact with them and requested their aid and thankfully, they finally arrived and came to their rescue.

“Pull back!” Dean could be heard, waving and yelling for his men to go to the treelines, and Jamie followed his orders when suddenly Trenton went down next to her.

_Shit!_

“Medic! Medic!” She called out but her voice was swallowed by the blast and rumbling of another of the anti-tank gun shell that shook the earth.

She knelt down next to Trenton, her eyes scanning the body. There was blood everywhere. She could see that he’d been hit three times minimum. “Trenton. It’s alright, you’re alright, look at me!” She said in the most calming voice that she could muster up in such a situation. She called out for a medic again and again. She turned back to Trenton. “Stay with me, alright? Look at me. Stay with me!” Her hand pressing at the wound, trying to stop the bleeding on his stomach.

There were a set of strong arms that hauled her up. Hands under her armpits, hoisting her to a standing position. She watched her wet, bloody hands move from the wound.

“Bambi, keep fucking moving!” Dean growled angrily and pulled her to the tree next to them. It was the only cover there was. He wrapped his one hand around her body, pulling her down with him and made her stay down, “Stay!”

“Trenton!” She yelled at her friend who still had his eyes on her. They were maybe 6 feet from each other, but still it wasn’t close enough for her to do anything for him. His lips were moving, trying to tell her something but there was no sound coming out of it. “Look at me, alright. Keep your eyes on me. Everything will be ok.” She held Trenton’s gaze while she writhed in Dean’s arms, trying to get out. She shouted at Trenton, telling him that everything was okay while Dean fired back at the source with his one free hand.

“We need to fall back to the line!” Dean hissed, shells and mortars still cutting through air above their heads.

“No, I can’t leave Trenton behind!”

“Jamie, we can’t stay or we’ll be dead!”

She looked at Dean. She knew full well that he was right, but it was  _Trenton_ goddammit. He was her friend and family. She was not leaving family behind.

“Shit! Bambi, now!” Dean hauled her up, just as she was about to protest. He pulled her along with him, using his strength against her.

“Trenton! I’m coming back! Hold on!” She screamed at him, not knowing if he heard her. He looked at her still, his eyes unblinking.

They waited at the treeline as their Commanding Officer ran up and down. “Get ready, for an counter attack. Get ready to move!”

There was simply no time for Jamie to go back for Trenton.

 

***

 

**August 27th, 1944**

They were all tired and exhausted. It had been days of constant fighting and Jamie really didn’t know if they could ever win. She could tell that the Germans thought the same, because the shelling was less and less and for a moment, it stopped completely. She welcomed the silence.

Jamie sat at the treelines in the back, out of the lines that they were holding, her back leaned against a big tree. She closed her eyes, letting the silence wash over her.

“Can I sit?” The voice next to her was a little hoarse, and she didn’t have to look up to know that it was Dean. She didn’t answer, only opened up her eyes and moved a little out of the way to make room for him.

“They told me that you haven’t eaten all day today. Tran is worried and honestly, so am I. I wish I could be around more instead of in and out of those endless strategic meetings.” He said, pulling out the K-ratio chocolate bar from his webbing and unwrapped it. Dean broke off a piece and handed it to her. “Take it.”

She didn’t move. She couldn’t.

“I swear if you don’t take it and put in in your mouth. I’m gonna go all black and blue on your ass, Bambi.” He growled at her and then he added with a lazy smirk. “And it won’t be the good way.”

She looked at him, his frown pulled back deep in his face, his brows met in the middle. Dean’s fingers still held the chocolate out to her. Jamie let out a sigh before she took it and shoved it into her mouth, letting the chocolate melt on her dry tongue.

Dean broke off another piece and pushed it into his own mouth before he spoke. “I’m sorry about Trenton. You two were close.” If Dean was jealous, he didn’t show it. He sounded sincere.

“I failed him.” She said and willed herself not to break down and cry.

“You didn’t.”

“You shouldn’t have pulled me back.” She looked at him and saw him raising an eyebrow at her as if to say Are you serious? “I mean, I..fuck, I don’t know.” She took another piece of chocolate that Dean offered her. “He was like a brother.”

“I’m sorry.” Dean said again, and she knew that he really meant it. There was nothing he could have done to change the fact that Trenton was gone. She knew that they couldn’t have helped him and kept him alive. The wounds were too damaging.

“He knew.”

Dean stopped chewing to raise an eyebrow in question. “Knew what?”

“About me.” Jamie said. “You know how I could get in here? Trenton was a couple of privates in front of me for medical inspection. I told you he was always horny. He stood in line with a hard on in his pants and when the medical officer took out his dick for inspection,” She tried not to laugh as she thought back to the day. “Trenton came all over the doc. He got cum everywhere. On his glasses, in his mouth, even in his eyes.”

Dean chuckled at that. “Oh, man..”

“That’s when they blew the whole thing off, and I never had another inspection. There was no time before they shipped me off here.” She tilted her head to face Dean. “I should bring his letter back to his family. I failed, because I didn’t think to check his pockets.” She couldn’t hold back her tears anymore.

“Come here.” Dean said, spreading his arms and pulled her into a hug. He let her rest her head on his shoulder. “You didn’t fail. Trenton wouldn’t think that and you know it.”

Jamie knew, but it didn’t make her any less sad.

 

***

 

**August 30th, 1944**

Baker pushed towards a German battery at La Trinité. They needed to take them out to enable the 175th infantry division to come around from Plouzané, and there were more hedgerows. Jamie swore that if she got back, she would never in her life grow hedgerows. She was so fucking sick of them already.

Dean told them that the 175th are close to taking Hill 103, and the 115th are moving east towards Brest via Fort Montbarey. The 116th, which included Baker company, were to clear through La Trinité as soon as possible to help the 115th with the coastal fortress. The problem was that everyone who was not there thought that La Trinité was an easy task. Especially the men who were sitting on their high horses and were far away from actual combat.

They held the line and some of them tried to get close to the battery, but it was to no avail. There were no other options at the end of the night, than to pull back and wait until the morning. Jamie was exhausted. She switched off her mind from Trenton when she was fighting, but when there was no fighting, and she was left alone with her mind, she thought that she was going crazy.

“Blum, can I come in?” Tran poked his head into her foxhole which she covered up by a blanket to have privacy. She really didn’t feel like having company, but Tran had something that smelled like coffee in his hand. Jamie nodded at him.

Tran settled next to her, and he wrapped an arm around her, letting her rest her heavy head on his shoulder as he held out the coffee for her. “You need to come back around, Jamie.”

Jamie took it from him, warming her cool hands on the hot mug.

“Everyone’s worried, you know. Grumpy worries the most, but we can see that he doesn’t have the time to check on you himself. Harvelle took you off sentry. Don’t go lashing out at him, alright. You rest and be back soon. We all miss Trenton, just saying, we all also miss you.”

“Thanks.” She mumbled before taking a sip from the coffee. The hot liquid burned in her throat as she swallowed it down.

They stayed like that. Sitting in the dark. Neither one of them saying a word, and it was enough for Jamie. The silence was comforting. She drank up her coffee and she didn’t even know that she was so tired until she fell asleep right there on Tran’s shoulder.

She woke up to the sound of whispers. The voices were familiar.

“Is he ok?” Dean asked Tran. He slipped into the tiny foxhole.

Dean sat down next to Jamie, squeezing her in between himself and Tran. She didn’t move and pretended to be asleep. She was just too tired to do anything at all. Instead, she listened to them talk. “He drank a cup of coffee, sir. Fell asleep on me right after. I didn’t wanna wake him up.”

“Good.”

“What time is it, Lieutenant?” Tran asked in a whisper.

“Almost Oh-one-hundred-hours.”

“Shit.” Tran cursed under his breath. “You take over sir, I gotta be on sentry.”

“Alright, corporal.” Dean nodded and Tran moved her head over to rest on Dean’s shoulder before he went out and put the blanket over the foxhole back into place.

Dean didn’t say a word, and Jamie listened to his steady breathing.

“I know that you’re awake.” He said after a while. Jamie blinked her eyes open, her heart raced as if she’d been caught with her hand in the cookie jar. “You don’t have to say anything, though. I just want you to listen to me, alright? I got a letter from Sam, and I’m gonna read it to you.” He pulled out his flashlight and shone it at the letter in his hand.

“Dear Dean, I’m sorry, you did what? You met a girl? Like a real one? Not only in your dreams, right? Also not a cardboard cutout that you keep next to your bunk bed and jerk off to every night?”

Jamie couldn’t help but chuckle.

“Sam’s always funny like that. Yeah, ha-ha.” Dean mocked, before continuing. “Jokes aside. I’m happy for you, Dean. If she’s real (ha-ha), I’m so fucking happy, seriously. It was about time. I thought you’d die without even experience what love feels like. Who would have thought that you’d meet a girl? I mean, no offence, but I hope you didn’t meet her in a bar like you did all the other broads back in Kansas.” He paused, looking up from the page. “Yeah, well, I probably can’t get out of this one, can I?” He grinned weakly.

“No.” Jamie answered softly without looking up.

“Yeah, thought so.” He tilted his head a little, placing a kiss on the crown of her head. “I guess I owe Jess $10 because we had a bet running for five years now about when you would meet a girl who you would think was worth your while and would be important enough to you to bring back home. I had my bet on never, while Jess said give him 5 years.” Dean chuckled. “That little shithead.” The vibration of his voice rumbled beneath her cheeks. “See, no girl worth bringing home.” He said to her and was proud of himself. “I’d love to meet her one day, Dean. If she thinks that you’re good enough for her, then so be it. You gotta believe her, alright? And hell, a girl who’s important to my brother is also important to me. I like her already. We could live together. Me, jess, you, her. The house is big enough and you know it. Hell, Dean, I know that you think that nobody would ever want your sorry ass or even that no girl would ever love you for who you really were (yeah, yeah, I know they all think you’re handsome, blah blah), but that’s bullshit. You of all people deserve to be loved and most of all, to be happy, Dean. I know how much love you have in you (although you would never admit it, jerk!) and to know that you can share that with someone, makes me damn happy too. Shit, I’d like to come over and meet her right now if I’m allowed, but I guess that would get me jail time for desertion.”

“Fuck, now I really just wanna go home.” He mumbled and chuckled nervously. He was trying not to cry, Jamie knew. Dean swallowed and willed himself to read more to her.

“I can’t really tell you how love feels like, to be honest. If you feel like you never want to let her out of your sight. If she’s the first and the last thing on your mind. If she’s the only reason that keeps you going when you’re in doubt or in a bad place. If she’s the only thing you’re looking forward to after a long day. Shit, Dean, I guess that’s love. Congratulations!” Dean’s voice slowly broke apart and his body shook underneath her cheeks.

“Don’t even think that this is the only love that you’ll get or know. It’s just the beginning, alright? There are different kinds of love, that’s why it’s so hard to pinpoint what love really feels like. If you care about someone and if you are holding them and you never want to let them go, then that’s love. What if it hurts like hell? So what? Wouldn’t you want to experience that too? There’s no running away. If it hurts like hell, then it hurts like hell. That’s life, Dean. Man up and face it. Tell her I said hi, and I can’t wait to meet her. I already like her and tell her to keep you in line and most of all, you take good care of her, alright?”

She lifted her head from Dean’s shoulder and he rubbed at his eyes with his thumb and middle finger before he pinched at the bridge of his nose. Dean sniffed a little before he looked up from the letter, his eyes glassy.

“Shit, Bambi. I think I love you.” He breathed out shakily. She moved up to straddle him. Dean wrapped his arms around her and looked down into her eyes. He rested his forehead on hers before he whispered, “Sam says hi,” and then grinned. She echoed his grin before she kissed him. Dean let her, parting his lips to grant her entrance and she licked in, tasting the familiarity of his tongue on hers.

Dean rested his forehead back on hers as they parted. “So, you coming home with me now? Sam said it was okay.”

Jamie answered him with a kiss, letting his scruff rub her skin raw, because right then, she wants to feel that she’s alive.


	12. Chapter 12

**September 2nd, 1944**

They were stuck somewhere outside of Brest.

The shelling never stopped and it was already way past midnight. Dean was just so fucking sick of it. The shelling was faint, it wasn’t enough to cause any damage or threaten them, but it was enough to keep them all alerted. It was enough to keep them from getting any rest.

Dean went from foxhole to foxhole, asking his men if they needed anything that he could provide. Unfortunately, the supply officers still hadn’t come to find them and they were low on food. His platoon shared what they could, and Dean still had his chocolate in his webbing that he didn’t want to part with, but could if he had to. He ran down his line of men and at that point, he could tell that they knew that Dean was tired, too.

Castiel, too, was weary. He told them that he didn’t know what he should do. It could very well be tactical of the Germans to keep them up all night just so they would all be too exhausted come morning. Then they would all lose the fight they had been fighting so hard for. They had lost too many men to let that happen. Lost too much to give up.

Dean moved down the line, crouching at every foxhole and shell scraping, asking the same questions. Regardless of the situation, his men were still in high spirits. Moral was good and Dean could count himself lucky.

Dean stopped to crouch next to the hole where Jamie was sitting, looking over the rim of the foxhole to hold their line. Tran was in the hole sleeping, and Dean wished that he could find an empty hole to nap in. He wished that he’d found Bambi sleeping somewhere alone, because she was so small.  He’d fit in perfectly curled around her.

“You alright?” He asked her, and she smiled at him in response. It immediately warmed Dean’s heart and even though he was exhausted before, he didn’t feel like it anymore.

“Fine, sir.”

“How long has Tran been sleeping?”

“I don’t know. About two hours I guess.”

“Hey Tran,” Dean called down, waking him up. Bambi frowned. “Make room for me. I need to take a nap. Make sure to trade places with Bambi when you’re awake.”

Tran was small himself, and Dean was certain that he could fit in with him, too.

Tran moved a little in his sleep, making room for Dean’s broad frame and Jamie looked down at them, grinning as she saw them both wedged in the narrow hole. Sleeping next to each other.

It took Tran another half hour before he showed up, yawning. “Fuck, thanks Blum. I needed a nap.”

“You’re welcome. Just don’t forget what you promised me.”

Dean wasn’t asleep yet and he couldn’t unhear that sentence.

“Yeah, yeah. Now go quick and take a nap yourself. You never know when we have to fight again. It’s warm down there, too, the Lieutenant is a fucking furnace.”

Dean could hear her giggle before she lowered herself down and took off her helmet. She got comfortable next to him, not quite touching him until he spread out his arm for her to crawl into. Tran was busy watching the line, and Dean was sure that he could get away with it. Either way, it was worth the risk. She was worth the risk.

“Hi,” He said, his hand stroked from her cheek up to her hair.

“Hi.” She replied with a smile, and he kissed her. Her hand rubbed against his scruff. Dean needed to shave, he knew, but there’s just no time for it.

“What’s the promise?” He whispered low. Noise discipline was on and they couldn’t talk louder, but that was perfectly ok. In the foxhole, they were alone in their own little bubble, their own little world.

“I gave him my last chocolate and let him sleep longer than he should.”

Dean frowned a little. “You did?”

She nodded at him. “And he promised me to name his first born after me.”

Dean threw his head back in a fit of laughter. It was hard for him to keep his voice low.

“Shit, Jamie Tran. What a kid, huh?”

“Oh, that kid’s going places, alright.”

Dean kissed the top of her head before he shifted, making room in between them a little as not to raise suspicion. He told her to sleep a bit. Tomorrow was another hard day, and he wanted his men to be as rested as they could.

 

***

 

**September 3rd, 1944**

Baker was moving out. Fox and Dog companies were already on their way around the east while Baker took the west flank, taking out the trench system.

It seemed like a good idea at first, but then Dean found himself crouched in the dirt while Cas yelled over his head. Soldiers left and right of him fell down screaming for a medic or were not able to scream at all.

“Take cover! Take cover and get out of the way!”

The shell of the 280mm crashed on the ground and it almost took Dean’s legs out from under him.

Baker scattered.

Everyone who was still standing sprinted as the next shell screamed over their heads.

“Pull back! Pull back now! Come on, come on, let’s go!” Castiel yelled for Baker to retreat and everyone scrambled up.

Dean picked up private Rosen from the floor where he was bleeding from his leg. He hauled him up and continued to sprint. “Bambi!” He yelled, turning himself around 360° to see where Jamie was.

“Here, sir!” Bambi yelled back. She was on the floor, crouching next to Fitzgerald some odd couple of feet away from him. Dean could see the gaping wound on Fitzgerald’s thigh.  

He stalled, crouching down beside the two of them.

“You’re fine, alright? Just stay with me.” Bambi’s voice was calm as she searched on Fitzgerald’s thighs for the entry wound.

“Shit, Bambi. You need to check if… ah fuck.” Fitzgerald threw his head back, closing his eyes in pain.

Dean had Rosen still half around his shoulder and he could not afford to drop the private. “Bambi, we need to run!” He growled, his hand on her shoulder.

“I just need to..” Her hands tore at the fabric of Fitzgerald’s pants, pulling the fabric apart.

“My balls, Bambi, are they.. ah!”

Bambi grinned amidst the downpour of shells and took a peek. “You’re fine, Fitzgerald. Everything’s where it should be.” And Fitzgerald smiled back then.

“Come on!” Dean was getting impatient.

Bambi got on her feet and hauled Fitzgerald’s arm over her shoulder to half carry him to safety. They ran for the next rendezvous point to regroup. Men checked through their weapons, looking at the familiar faces of their friends that made it safely. Dean lowered Rosen gently to the ground, and Shurley was quick to work on the wounded.

He walked over to where Bambi was sitting, she was breathing hard, her rifle still clutched tight in her grip. Dean was so fucking delighted that she was safe that he put his hand on her shoulder in passing, squeezing for reassurance. He let go quickly though, afraid that Bambi would notice that his hands were trembling.

 

***

 

**September 5th, 1944**

Baker lined themselves up. Platoon by platoon. Waiting, crouching, kneeling in place for the order to move out.

It was the day of the day - or rather, night of the night. They painted their faces with camouflage cream. Hung fabric around their upper arms, as not to lose sight of each other.

La Trinité was a bitch, and it was impossible to take it by the usual methods. There were more casualties than progress in the last six days and frankly, the 116th were running out of time and most importantly, out of men. Their order was now a direct assault on the battery at La Trinité by the entire 116th regiment.

Dean couldn’t say that he was happy about it, but what could he do? They had the order of no noise and no light. So they’re waiting there, Bayonets fixed.

2nd Battalion looped around to the south, where the fortress was the weakest and Baker was going for the trench-system at the forefront.

Dean went through his platoon one last time, making sure that nothing shone and nothing rattled. He hated that they went in without helmets, but orders were orders.

They moved in the night, the moon shining above them. The night air was chilly and their breathing fogged up around their faces like a puff of smoke.

Cas moved up and down, finding platoon leaders and came to a halt before Dean. They fell into step together as Cas whispered. “When we reached our RVP, remove armbands on my command.” Dean nodded. “Keep your bayonets fixed.” Dean nodded a second time.

They were going in by squad. Dean’s platoon was taking out the sentry outposts and cutting of the German communications with the rest of the German occupied bunker. And for the first time, Dean was happy that he got one of the easier tasks.

They went in, rifle first, moving swiftly in the dim light of the moon and took out one Kraut after another, soundlessly, with only their bayonets. Dean ordered to only use ammo when absolutely needed. He hated that, though. It wasn’t a nice thing to do and it was bloody, but orders were orders.  _He got what he got._

Now they waited in the darkness, watching the other platoons going in the bunker and stood at attention to provide suppressive fire if needed.

They were only needed with the last push, and Dean sped along with his men, rifles pulled to their shoulders as they help taking out Kraus in the trench system.

When all was done, Dean smiled. It was intense and his knees were wobbly. It was then, after everything was said and done, that he felt how fucking tired he really was.

He found Bambi in the trenches and took a seat beside her.

“You alright?” He nudged her in the side.

“I’m still having nightmares.”

Dean was concerned, but when he saw how she looked at him with her lips pursed and her eyebrow quirked, he knew that she was trying to lighten up the mood.

“Why’s that?”

“I saw Fitzgerald’s junk.” She did a little shudder and pulled a face and it worked, Dean laughed. Fuck it felt good to laugh.

The fight was not over though. Dean sat around the trenches with Tran, Lafitte, Bambi, and Harvelle when the shelling began. They didn’t even have enough time to take out their rifles when Lafitte went down, a round hit him in his throat and the gurgling sound of him drowning on his own blood was recorded and locked in Dean’s mind forever.

Dean threw himself before Bambi and Harvelle and he ordered for them to fall back and take cover. Of course they didn’t listen. They stayed and defended their position.

It was morning when the Germans scattered around and retreated behind the treelines. Nonetheless, Castiel ordered for them to keep firing.

Dean switched to deliberate fire to slow the ammunition usage, but they were to keep going until Cas ordered them to cease fire. Dean kept going. He wanted to believe that they took La Trinité and that they would keep it.

 

***

 

**September 9th, 1944**

Baker was pulled off the front line after La Trinité and for the first time in what seemed to be month, Dean stood under the spray of hot water. Freaking hot water! It had been ages since he felt so fucking clean. He shaved and wished there was a barber nearby. He needed a haircut, but he’d be damned if he allowed any of his men with scissors close to his neck. He’d just have to wait until they got to a bigger city.

Dean had time to wash his clothing and finally they smelled good again. He hung out his clothing to dry as he waited for Bambi to come out of the shower. The others were having lunch and he promised her that he would be on watch as she took her sweet time in there. He couldn’t wait to grab a hot meal himself, honestly, and it was the first time since, that he felt the closest to normal with Bambi.

“Looking good, private.” He sat there, in front of the showers, penning a letter to Sam when she walked out into the landing on their floor, a towel wrapped around her whole body. “Just, you maybe want to lose that towel, just saying.” He shrugged, putting his pen to his lips and bit on it with a shit eating grin on his face.

“Fuck off.” She replied, walking into the room where they were billeted to get dressed.

“Shut up, you love me.” He called out, not caring if someone would hear them.

“You’re a pain in my ass, Lieutenant.” She called out and walked out in her combats and a black shirt, her hair was still damp.

Dean laughed. “Do you like pain in your ass, beca–”

“Shut up!” She pulled him down to her by his shirt to kiss him.

“I really meant it.” Dean smiled. “You look good. I mean, I wouldn’t mind you dressed up, but I’d take you in combats over all fancy dresses anytime.” He kissed the top of her head.

“Be still my heart.” Jamie rolled her eyes at him. “Let’s go, I’m hungry.”

 

_Dear Sam,_

_I read your letter out loud to her. I thought that it was a good thing to do. You know, to let her see that I really mean it and it’s not just because we’re here in the same place, at the same time._

_Thanks for your words. She says hi back! Her name’s Jamie by the way. I don’t think that I’ve told you that._

_We’ve taken La Trinité, bitch! We were pulled off the first line right after. It was such a relief, to tell you the truth. There were weeks of constant fighting and at the end, I could barely hold my eyes open. I think I might have aged 20 years in one week._

_Everything’s good here and dammit, I showered for real in what felt like months! Yeah, yeah. Shut it, I know what you think! I feel like I’m a human being again, so there’s that. And we’ve got hot food!_

_There’s not much news other than me doing good, Sam. Jamie’s good, too. She said that she’d love to meet you one day. We better make it back so I can introduce her to you, man._

_We’re sitting comfortably for a couple of days until we know where they want us next. So write whenever you can, bitch! I hope you’re doing great wherever you are Sam. Take care, alright?_

_Lieutenant Dean Winchester_

“My god, are these hot dogs?” Jamie’s eye grew wide as she stood with Dean in line, and Dean giggled at her, amused by her joy. She shot him a look. His smirk made her want to punch him straight in the face.

“Shut up, will you?” She hissed. “I was just excited!”

“Yeah, I see.” He didn’t stop grinning, and she chose to ignore him while she let them serve her two.

Dean packed four hot dogs on his tray and shrugged at her when she watched him with a raised eyebrow. They found a seat where Tran and Harvelle were still eating their food.

“Looking good, Lieutenant.” Tran said, his mouth still full and even Harvelle joined in. “Yeah, almost forgot what you look like without the frown lines and camouflage cream, sir.” They all laughed.

“Hey, and me?” She asked, feeling a little left out.

“You, too.” Dean elbowed her in the sides, winking at Tran and Harvelle.

“Yeah, of course Bambi, you look damn good. But fuck, have you notice how handsome the Lieutenant is? I mean, I’m a man and I find him quite easy on the eye.” Harvelle almost couldn’t stop babbling. 

Jamie made gagging noises, and Tran snorted at that.

“Oh come on, Bambi. I’m fucking handsome and you know it.” Dean said, taking a bite and chewed with a grin on his face and there was no other thing that Jamie could do than roll her eyes at him.

“He’s a dreamboat.” Harvelle mumbled, making all the others stop doing what they were doing to stare at him. Harvelle looked up, his eyebrows raised. “Fuck, did I say that out loud?”

Dean started to laugh, throwing his head back as his whole body shook.

“Shit, I gotta find myself a broad soon, I’m going crazy being around you guys.” Harvelle stood up and balanced his tray on his hand. “You going to play later, sir?” Harvelle asked Dean and he nodded while he took a bite.

“Play what?” Jamie asked curiously.

“Basketball, Bambi. Baker is playing Dog.” Tran explained.

“Oh,”

“You can come cheer us on.” Dean said, “Wait, no. That’s actually an oder. Harvelle, get all the men together. We need the support, seeing how bad Tran is.”

The whole table broke into fits of laughter, and Jamie thought that that was how it was supposed to be. All of them together, carefree. No worries or war between them.

“Man, I’m still hungry.” She announced when she finished her two hot dogs.

“Well, get yourself some more.” Tran suggested and she looked back to the line of soldiers queuing up for food.

“Nah, too many people.” She said, but then she looked over to see Dean holding his third hot dog up. He was about to take a bite.

Jamie scooted closer to Dean, standing up a little and licked at the hot dog in Dean’s hand.

“What the fuck was that for?” Dean exclaimed, raising one eyebrow and Tran had a hard time holding in his laughter.

She grinned at Dean, flashing her teeth. “I licked it so it’ts mine, sir.”

That’s when Tran broke down, laughing and spraying his food onto the table.

Dean, unfazed, took a bite of the licked hot dog and began to chew. “Is that so?”

“Yeah, if you lick something, it’s yours. That’s how we handled things in my family, sir.”

Dean took another bite before he spoke with his cheeks full of food. “So, you wanna say if I licked something, that it’s mine?”

She started to blush at that. “Well, never mind, sir.”

“Nah, joking, here.” Dean broke off his hot dog and gave half of it to her but a grin bright on his face.

 

***

 

Jamie sat on the steps, cheering on her company, and she couldn’t take her eyes off Dean. He was running around and sweating and he was laughing. She’d like to stay like that forever, if possible, but she knew that it wouldn’t last. It never would. The war was not over, and she’d be assigned to another platoon soon if Castiel didn’t change his mind.

The ball rolled out of court and came to a halt at her feet. Dean ran toward her to retrieve it and when he bent down, she could see him wink at her, the droplets of sweat running down the side of his face. His freckles stood out in the glimmering light of the dusk.

Baker won. Of course they would, and she wouldn’t have it any other way. Jamie was about to retreat with her platoon when Dean ran up to her and grabbed at her arm, making her turn around on her heels. “After dinner. You and me.” He was gone again before she could utter a word.

 

***

 

Dean had a briefing and couldn’t join them for dinner, nonetheless she was having a good laugh with good company in the form of her second family - her platoon.

She walked out of the mess hall when Dean and Gabriel walked in and they stood in line.

He nudged her arm on her way out. “I’ll be quick.” He said, before he stood back in the fast moving line. Jamie didn’t know what he wanted for her to do.

She waited outside, sitting on the pavement when Dean hurried out, still chewing his last bite.

“You didn’t have to wolf everything down, you know.” She teased him, and he swallowed the last remaining bite in his mouth.

“Didn’t want you to wait too long.” He replied and then he pointed his chin to the empty streets. “Come on, let’s take a walk. I have to be at another meeting at Twenty-three-hundred.”

Jamie looked at her watch. It’s almost 3 hours until Dean had to be somewhere. It was probably the most time they ever had.

Dean hurried along the street and Jamie had to jog to keep up with him. Falling into swift step as he hummed a melody. Someone was really happy, she thought and she almost missed the stop, because she couldn’t stop smiling to herself. Dean stood in front of a door and she kept on walking until she heard him whistle out to her.

“Where you doing? You having another date I don’t know about?” He hissed, a lopsided grin on his face as he put the key into the lock, still chuckling to himself.

“Well, in my defense. You didn’t tell me where we’re going.”

She stood beside him when he pushed the door in, it was dark, but she could make out crates of various sizes littering the room. He pushed the door close again and locked it, leaving the key hanging.

He took her hand in his and guided her to the back room. Dean knew his place around, so she guessed that he’d been there before, maybe even more than once. “Come on.”

Dean pushed the door of the back room closed with his boots while he attacked her face, his hand coming up to cup her cheeks. He kissed her like he meant it. Her hands fisted in his shirt, pulling it loose from his combats before she slipped her hand under it, making Dean shudder at the feeling of her cold finger caressing his body. “Fuck, cold!” He groaned into he kiss and she laughed, before she ran her palm across his body, feeling hot skin and muscle underneath. Her fingers grazed his nipples, making Dean hitch his breathing and moaned into her mouth. She loved that. Loved that he was so sensitive there.

Her fingers swiftly unbuckled his belt before she moved her palm further down, stroking his hardness through his combats, and Dean grinned into the kiss.

“Are you packing or are you just happy to see me, Lieutenant?” She asked with a naughty smirk and Dean chuckled before he breathed against her lips.

“You know, alright.” His hand still cupping her cheeks and he kissed her again, bruisingly.

Jamie’s hand pulled down his zipper and she shimmied Dean from his pants and underwear before she fits his cock in her hand, making him hold his breath. She kissed him one last time before she lowered herself down. She’d always been curious of how he tasted, and she couldn’t wait to finally find out.

Dean wanted to stop her, maybe because he didn’t know if he could last. There was nothing he could do, she was already on her knees, and when he opened his mouth to protest, no words came out. She took his cock in both her hands, holding it up so she could lick at his head.

Dean’s rolled his head back at the first touch of her wet tongue, hitting the door hard. “Shit.”

She laughed at that, breathing hot air against the slick patch of flesh.

His cock felt heavy in her grip. The scent of pre cum lingered in the air, and she breathed it in before she sucked at the tip of his cock. She let her tongue trail along his shaft, playing with the string underneath the cock’s head, and Dean mumbled something incoherent that sounded a lot like  _fucking stop teasing_.

Jamie laughed before she took him in again, taking him as far as she could, and Dean banged the back of his head against the door for a second time with a “Fuck” that rolled off his tongue in a huffed moan.

He looked down to her then, and she met his eyes. His hand found the top of her head, but he wasn’t pushing, nor pulling, he just left it there as he watched her. His hips coming up to meet her mouth, fucking slowly into it. She took him further until the tip of his cock tickled the back of her throat and she started to gag.

Dean impatiently pulled her up by her arm then, lifting her up, his cock slipping from her lips. He walked her to table in the back of the room and sat her on it as he kissed her hungrily, not shy of tasting himself on her tongue.

He didn’t stop kissing her when he untangled her boots and took them off. He didn’t stop kissing her when his hands fumbled at the button of her pants. He only stopped kissing her to push her down to lie on her back whilst he took off her combat pants and underwear.

Dean was on his knees, the table the right height as he spread kisses along her inner thighs. Jamie rested one of her feet on his shoulder as he kissed his way further, but he’s not kissing her there just yet. Dean was teasing, kissing and biting her thighs and her outer lips.

She propped herself on her elbow, looking at him. She was met by his green eyes and the crinkles around them. “You’re an asshole.” She said, and as soon as the words left her lips, Dean licked a strip through her middle, parting her folds with his tongue. She bit back a moan while she whispered. “Fucking tease.”

“I learned it from the best.” Dean chuckled, before he sucked at her clit. He pushed a finger inside of her, and she was almost a goner.

“Fuck.” She breathed out, her hand fisting in his hair.

“Language, private!” Dean scolded with a smile before he sealed his lips back around her clit, sucking and humming a melody at the same time while he fucked her with two of his fingers.

“Ah, shit.” Jamie felt a surge of electricity, starting in her gut, and then down her legs, making them tremble and quiver as a wave of orgasm washed over her, fogging her mind for a solid minute.

Dean stopped his ministration and looked up at her, very pleased with himself. The tip of his freckled nose shiny with her slick and juice.

He got up again then, bending over her as he kissed up her throat. He capture her mouth with his, and she tasted herself and her on the tip of his tongue.

“We still don’t have protection.” Dean said, matter of factly, and Jamie was seriously past caring.

She had her hand between them, and grabbed at his dick in her fist, before she squeezed it gently. He yelped out into her mouth, and she guided his cock to her entrance. Dean took the hint, pushing himself forward and watched, as her pussy took him in, inch by inch.

When he was sheathed inside, he bent his upper body down, kissing her hungrily as he moved his hips, fucking into her in a slow, sensual pace.

Dean breathed hard, his teeth biting into her bottom lip before he sealed his lips around it, sucking it in, soothing away the pain that he caused.

“Shit,” he exclaimed, “I won’t fucking last.”

She giggled at that, making him kiss her harder, swallowing the sounds she made. Dean increased his pace, thrusting into her harder and harder as she sank her fingers into his back, scratching at the fabric of his shirt.

“Fuck, Bambi,” He pulled out with an animalistic groan, spilling his cum onto the floor as he slammed his head back and squeezed his eyes shut.

She watched him, loving how he came undone. She thought that she would never get sick of seeing his face being bathed in sweet agony.

Dean panted as he came down from his high. He smiled at her, and he pulled her up to her ass and kissed her. He tucked his softening cock back into his pants and zipped it up, before bending down to pick up her underwear and pants from the floor. He helped her into her boots and laced them for her, her foot on his knee. He took her hand and guided her out of the back room and into the front where it was less dark.

They sat with their backs against the wall as he produced a flask out of the side pocket of his combat pants and handed it to her.

“When will I be reassigned?” She asked the question that she didn’t dare to ask as she unscrewed the flask.

“I don’t know. Cas wants to see me this evening. Said he had to talk to me in private. I will ask him then.”

He spread his arm, letting her nudge her head closer to him as she handed him back the flask after taking a sip. Dean took one too, before he settled the flask down. He put his face on the back of her head, inhaling deeply before he spoke into the crown of her hair. “Wish we didn’t have to hide all the time.”

“Me too.” She whispered, and then she shifted herself, sitting up straight and looking at Dean. His hair needed cutting, pieces were falling into his face. He slicked it back nowadays, but when it was all dry again, it pointed out everywhere. She thought it was cute, but he wouldn’t wanna hear that.

“Sent Sam a letter,” He started to mutter as he kissed her cheek. “Thanked him.”

“Good. I like Sam.” She smiled and nudge her nose along his.

“Yeah?”

“He’s the more handsome brother.” She giggled while Dean rolled his eyes.

“Yeah well, he’s taken.”

“You too.” She nudge her head under his arm, making him spread it and pull her into a hug, her fingers trail along his biceps.

“Me too.” He repeated, kissing the crown of her head and rested his face there before he mumbled against her hair. “I’m yours.”


	13. Chapter 13

**September 9th, 1944**

Bambi fell asleep in Dean’s arms, and he couldn’t bring himself to wake her up. He watched her sleep and felt her warm cheek against his. He only woke her up at the very last second, so he could savor the time. She punched him in his arm because he let her sleep so long. She knew that he had to go to see Castiel and cuddling was not a valid reason to be late to a meeting.

So, Dean was running late.

It was Twenty-Three-Oh-Seven, and Dean guessed that Cas would let it slide. They were pulled off the front line so he was going easy on his platoons, and Dean hoped that he would go easy on him, too.

When he reached Cas’ office, Dean knocked and waited. It was an office Cas shared with the other CO’s of Able and Fox companies, and Dean didn’t want to just barge in unannounced, even though Cas was probably impatiently waiting for him.

“Lieutenant Winchester. Permission to enter, sir!” Dean called out still from the outside.

“Permission granted.” Cas shouted from the other side. 

Dean pushed the door open. The office was surprisingly empty. There were three desks with an unfinished sand table in the middle of all the other tables.

“You wanted to see me, sir?” Dean closed the door behind him and walked into the room.

“At ease, Dean.”

“Oh, good. Cause I’m too tired for that crap right now.”

Cas chuckled light heartedly.  _A good sign_ , Dean thought.

“What’s wrong, why am I alone?” Dean asked and Cas pointed to a chair for him to sit down. “Is it because of the reassignment of Bambi?”

Cas still didn’t say anything. He took out a cigarette from the tin that laid on his paper scattered desk and offered Dean one. Dean thanked him, but didn’t take one. “Still not smoking, Cas.”

“Oh, right. I forgot.” Castiel lit up his and took a deep drag of the cigarette.

“Shit, Dean,” Cas started to say, the hand with the cigarette in between his fingers went up to his nose and Cas squeezed at the bridge. “The reassignment, is not going to happen.”

“What do you mean?” Dean leaned back in his chair with a frown on his face. He wasn’t sure yet if he should be happy or sad about it. **  
**

Cas took another drag of his cigarette, blowing smoke up in the air. “Bambi’s not going anywhere. He’s going home.”

“Excuse me, what?” Dean couldn’t sit any longer, he stood up, dragging the chair across the surface of the floor, the noise of it made the hair on Dean’s neck stand up.

“Dean, listen.” And now Dean thought that Cas was torturing him deliberately by not saying what the fuck was going on. “Blum’s brother. Jim?”

“Yeah, Jim, I met him.” Dean thought back to the paratrooper he met in Saint Lo. Thought back to the man Bambi felt comfortable enough to hug in front of him. A man who loved his sister and had a hard time parting from her. “A fine man. What’s with Jim?” Dean’s heart started to beat out of his chest. _Please, no. Don’t say it, Cas. Don’t fucking say it._

“I’ve heard he’d been there in Saint Lo. He got shipped off to Cherbourg to join his company, but he never made it out of Cherbourg, Dean. I don’t know why it took them so long to get the information to us.”

“Shit.” Dean opted to sit back down, holding his head in his hand as he rubbed at his face. **  
**

“I’m sorry. I just got the news before dinner. I didn’t want to ruin the mood.”

Dean didn’t know what to say to that. Should he fucking thank Cas? He knew that it wasn’t Cas’ fault, but he didn’t know who he should direct the anger to. At last he asked, “What does that mean for Bambi?”

“Private Jamie Blum will be sent home. He’s going back to England tomorrow and they will hand him a form. He’ll be deemed 4-G.” Cas said, holding up a paper that said what it meant because for the love of god, Dean didn’t know what Cas was talking about. He just kept looking at Cas puzzled until he read it out to him. “4-G: Registrant exempted from service because of the death of a parent or sibling while serving in the Armed forces or whose parent or sibling has Prisoner of War or Missing In Action status.”

Dean cleared his throat, there were so many things going through his mind.

“Do you want to tell him or should I?” Castiel asked him and Dean replied with a face.

“I’ll tell him. When does he has to leave?”

“Oh-Nine-Hundred-Hours tomorrow morning. They’ll cross the channel with the wounded and he can hop on.”

“Fuck. He’ll need time to say goodbye. You know how close my platoon is, Cas.” **  
**

“I know. I exempt your platoon from all things until that time tomorrow. I’m sorry. Tell him that, alright?” Cas put a hand on Dean’s shoulder in sympathy.

 

***

 

Dean jogged back to the building where his platoon was billeted, taking the stairs, three at a time. He peeked inside the room, the men were still drinking and laughing, playing poker on their bunk beds. When they notice him, the laughter died down and they stood at attention.

“As you were.” Dean said, before his gaze found Bambi’s. “I’ve been to see the CO..uh.. Bambi, I need to talk to you.”

She hopped off her bed and joined Dean outside. “What is it? Is it about my reassignment?”

Dean didn’t know how he should say it. So, he didn’t. Not then. He told Bambi to wait for him outside and went back into the room to tell it to his men first. So that they would know what happened.

There was no more laughter. Not even when Dean told them that they could sleep in ‘til Oh-Nine-Hundred.

“Will we see him before he leaves, Lieutenant?” Tran asked, a little teary eyed.

“Of course. I..just…we… need to clear things, and I don’t know if he’ll return tonight. Logistics, you know, but he’ll be here to pack his things tomorrow.”

“Alright. Good night, Lieutenant.” Harvelle said, trying to keep the spirit up as he suggested for the others to play another game. it wasn’t well received, but the men played along, trying to distract themselves. **  
**

He joined Bambi in the cool night, and they walk to the open field with Dean not saying a word. She didn’t dare to ask him what was wrong. They sat down underneath a tree and Dean looked up at the stars. it was a clear night, a cold one, too.

“Dean, would you please tell me what’s going on?” She turned to face him.

Dean rubbed at his face again and fuck, he tried to form words in his brain, but he couldn’t. “Shit, Bambi,” He started to say but had to pause to swallow down the lump that had built up in his throat. “You’re not going to be reassigned.” He could see her frown at him. “You’re going home.”

“I’m what?” Her voice was shaky.

“Jim,” Dean said and fuck, why was it so hard to say? “He..uh.. he fell. In Cherbourg. They couldn’t get the news to us sooner. Shit, Jamie, I’m so fucking sorry.”

She didn’t look at Dean anymore. She looked away and then she took off. She stood up and walked into the open field. Dean stood up slowly, watching her go. He was confused. He didn’t know if he should follow her or stay behind. He just didn’t know anything anymore. **  
**

He watched her collapse, falling down to her knees as she started to sob, and he rushed to her. He took a knee and held her up, making her look into his eyes. The sound of her voice broke his heart, and Dean had to bite back his own tears.

“No no no.” She mumbled as she whined. Dean pulled her into his embrace. He let her cry into his chest as he stroke her head and he couldn’t do anything more than say sorry to her over and over again.

“Jimmy.” Jamie kept on crying, but she let Dean haul her up and walk her back to the big tree. They were alone in the open, but Dean still needed to have some kind of privacy. He positioned her between his legs and laid her face on his chest as he leaned against the tree. She was still crying; her moans muffled by his chest.

He didn’t interrupt her. Instead he let her cry her heart out. Dean thought that it was long overdue, but on the other hand, what did he know? He wasn’t really the poster boy for feelings.

When her sobbing died down, Dean tried to cheer her up a little. He fished out the flask from his pants and to his surprise, Jamie took it and drank it all up. He smirked a little, because he could have used a damn drink himself. She handed it back to him, her eyes all puffed up red and her nose was swollen. Dean was sure that he had tears and snot stains on his combat jacket, but he couldn’t care about that. **  
**

Dean sat there, not saying a word. He wanted her to speak when she was ready.

After a while, Bambi did speak.

“What now?”

Dean cleared his throat, because what he was going to say then, probably devastated him more than her. “Uh.. you’re going back to England. They will deem you 4-G and then you’re on the next ship home.”

“Shit.” She muttered under her breath.

“Yeah.”

“What if I don’t wanna go home? What if I wanted to stay with the only brothers I still have left?”

“Bambi, you can’t stay. They will find you and haul your ass back, no matter what.”

“Shit.”

Yeah, there was no other word for it, Dean knew.

“That’s it, huh? I won’t see you anymore?” A new drop of tear streaked down her face and Dean brushed it away with his thumb.

“Shhh.. don’t say that.” Dean pulled her closer, placing a kiss on her forehead. “I’m still going to go back home. Not  _with_ you but  _to_ you.”

“Promise?”

“I promise.” He held her close, his arms wrapped tightly around her, and he wished that he wouldn’t have to let her go. “At least one of us will definitely get out of here alive.”

“Shut up. You promised.” She rammed her elbow into Dean’s rib, making him flinch. “When am I going?”

She had her face buried back deep in the crook of his neck and he felt her breathing against his skin.

“Tomorrow. Oh-Nine-Hundred.”

“Shit.”

“We can stay here a little longer.” Dean moved further down, laying himself in the grass and spread out his arm for her to crawl into.

“I’d like that.” She said, laying her head on his shoulder and put an arm across his chest. Her nose brushed against his jawline before she nuzzled back into the crook of his neck. He loved that. Loved that the place was made just for her to fit into.

They stayed until dawn and Dean walked her back to her billet. She wanted to have time to say goodbye to her family, and Dean understood that. He knew that he couldn’t keep her to himself. He had to share with his men, but that was okay.

Before she went in, Dean pulled her in for a bruising kiss. One that he wished would never end and she parted her lips, letting his tongue explore the familiarity of her mouth. Dean didn’t even know that he cried into he kiss, but again, so did she. Their faces were wet when they parted and they chuckled a little. “I’ll be outside when you get out. Go get some shut eye too.”

She nodded at him, smiling brightly before she went in.

 

***

 

It was Oh-Eight-Hundred when his whole platoon came out. Dean was sitting outside on the steps, waiting for them to come out. He’d been waiting for what seemed like forever. In fact, he didn’t even go back to his room. He wrote up reports for Cas, just anything that would occupy his mind. Now he was patiently waiting and he knew that they needed to say goodbye. Saying goodbye was a rare thing to do and his men didn’t get to say that a lot.

He stood up from the steps, as Bambi walked out with a crowd of men.

“We’re going for coffee and breakfast. Would you like to join us?” She’d asked him and yeah, coffee sounded about right. Dean didn’t know if his stomach could hold down a meal, though.

The truck was there on time, and they all stood in front of it as Bambi loaded up her things into the bed of the truck. She stood before Dean then, and he wanted so much to hug her, but he was already fighting with his tears at it was. Bambi saluted him one last time, a stupid grin on her face like the first time they met and he echoed her salute, so did his whole platoon.

She winked at them as she sat herself on the passenger seat, and they all watched her drive off.

To say that the moral was at the lowest since they started their mission into Normandy was an understatement.

Still, things needed to be done and a war needed to be won, and the men of 1st platoon of Baker company were slowly getting back into swings.

 

_Dear Jamie,_

_You’ll probably get this letter when you arrive home. I just wanted to say - since there will probably be nobody around to say it to you - welcome home._

_I hope your journey was bearable. Did you get seasick? Because I did. But also we were packed like sardines on the way over. I guess the way back is a little less stressful._

_To tell you the truth, I don’t even know how I should write this letter as you’re still here. At the moment, I’m waiting for you outside on the steps. You are taking your sweet time saying goodbye inside. I want to scream for you to hurry up, because even though I just saw you a couple of hours ago, I’m jealous that they are going to spend the rest of the morning with you. Call me crazy, but that’s just the way it is._

_God, I already miss you. You are not gone yet, but I already miss you._

_I don’t wanna do this no more, Bambi. I wanna go home with you, but since that’s not possible, I’m gonna make good on my promise and go back home to you. One day, when this is all over, I’ll be standing on your porch and you’d say “welcome home” to me. Please say it, because then I’d feel like I arrived. Your arms will be my home. Your smile will be my home. You will be my home._

_I always thought that we’d go home together and now that you’re gone, I don’t know what to do with myself anymore. I have nobody to confide in no more. In front of my men, I have to be tough and strict, but you and I both know full well that I’m not as tough as I look (don’t ever tell Sam that, you hear me)._

_Well, I don’t know what I should write anymore. I literally just saw you and will see you hopefully soon whenever you decide to walk out of that damn building. Hurry up!_

_I miss you so fucking much already. And I’ll see you soon. You just sit tight and wait for me, alright?_

_So, yeah, welcome home, Sweetheart._

_Yours, Dean_

 


	14. Chapter 14

**September 12th, 1944**

Dean knew that good things don’t last. He learned that life lesson long ago and it was the only thing he remembered.

That little family of his? It didn’t last. The dream of just staying back home, work and pay for Sam’s studies? It didn’t last. The good thing with Bambi? That frankly didn’t last either, even though it wasn’t over. Not technically. Not when Dean could still find a way back to her. But the days in Brest with hot showers and hot food, that certainly couldn’t last. He knew that and still he was angry that they had to move back to the front line again. It was too soon. There was never enough time.

Dean waited with his platoon on the parade square. They were packed and ready to march out come Twenty-one-hundred-hours. Moral had been low ever since Bambi left, but they all knew that they had to keep on moving, had to keep on going and Dean wasn’t crazy about keeping Cas alive anymore. He wanted to keep his platoon together. Without them, he’d be lost and lonely.

It was Twenty-thirty-nine-hours and the men are going through their belongings, checking if they had everything. Dean did the same, to be thorough. He checked his haversack, his webbing, and then he looked into the pocket where he kept his flask. It was empty now. He knew that he should have filled it before they left, but it was too late. He knew he could use the space for something more important, so he took it out to put it into his haversack. His eyebrows came together when his fingers brushed a piece of paper in the pocket beside the flask.

He unfolded it. The lighting wasn’t the greatest on the parade square, but it was enough for him to read what was on it.

 

_Dear Dean,_

_I don’t even know if you’ll find this and if you do - congratulations!_

_Come home soon, alright? I never said it, because I don’t know how to say it, but I think I love you with all my heart._

_Bambi (shut up, I quite like that nickname)_

Dean chuckled to himself and shit, his eyes were welling up.

“One Platoon, ready?” Castiel could be heard shouting from the front.

Dean folded the note and tucked it back into the side pocket of his combat pants. He stood at attention. Looking into the eyes of his men before he answered. “One Platoon, ready sir!”

 

***

 

**September 15th, 1944**

Baker company joined the battle at Fort Montbarey.

Castiel sent in one platoon after another, and each of them had to retreat back. They were losing men, and Dean’s platoon suffered with some wounded and unfortunately, Dopey was hit in the jaw.

Thankfully there were no more casualties. Dean didn’t know if he would be able to cope with that. They were a family and losing one meant losing a piece of themselves.

“Sir, there’s no way that we can get through.” Dean said as he knelt beside Cas.

“I know that. It was an order. Dammit Dean, you wanna switch places? I don’t know how much longer I can do this. Risking the lives of our men just because some stupid strategist thinks it do-able?”

“Cas,” Dean tried to calm his CO down, but Cas stood up and walked away swiftly.

Later that day, they had support from the British 79th Armoured Tanks, and they were able to break through.

 

***

 

**September 17th, 1944**

They finally captured the whole of Brest, and the whole of Baker company (or what was left of it) had time to recover. Thankfully, Dean’s platoon only had wounded apart from Dopey. Harvelle had a ricochet grazing his ass, but he was fine. At least there was that.

Dean finally had the time to find a barber, or at least someone with a steady hand who wouldn’t cut off his ear if he let them near his hair.

He walked the streets of Brest with a couple men of his platoon when they came across a barbershop - excuse Dean - it’s called coiffure here, how fancy!

The shop belonged to a French woman who introduced herself as Lisa. She was very friendly to his men and a couple of the women who worked there even offered some massages in the back of the salon. Dean didn’t even want to know what kind they meant by that, but he was sure that it didn’t involve scalp massages.

Sneezy followed a girl back to the back room with a shy smile on his face.

“Hey, Sneezy, if you’ve got a rash, I’m not scratching it, alright!” Dean called out, and there was laughter from a couple of other men behind him.

They were provided with condoms again, thank god. Too late for him, but not too late for his men, Dean guessed. The French women were all kinds of very, very thankful that the Allied Forces liberated them from the Nazis, and they were not shy about showing it.

It was Dean’s turn, and he took a seat. Lisa threaded her hands in Dean’s hair and he couldn’t lie. It felt great.

“What can I do for you, sir?” She asked him with a heavy French accent.

“Just cut it, I don’t really care.” He said truthfully, and he really didn’t. It was only hair and he wasn’t fuzzy. It would be covered by his helmet anyway.

“You have very nice hair, sir.” She hinted, her red lips curved up into a smile.

“Lieutenant, I think she likes you.” Tran, who sat on the worn out couch, watching them, chimed in.

Dean sent him a side eye, because he didn’t want Lisa to cut his ear off if he tilted his head. “Yeah?”

“Yeah. Maybe she’ll give you a massage. You’d deserve it, sir.” Tran winked and raised an eyebrow.

“I would love to give you a massage.” Lisa whispered into Dean’s ear, as she cut at the hair above it.

Dean chuckled then. “I’m alright, thank you.”

“That’s too bad. You know, if you change your mind, you and me could have a good time.” She was persistent, and Dean thought that she probably didn’t get turned down a lot. It wasn’t hard to imagine since she was easy on the eye, and the soldiers were all desperate.

“You know where I am.” She said as she brushed off the hair she just cut from his shoulders. Dean stood up to pay, thanking her.

“Well, I might want a massage.” Tran said, grinning like a winner.

Dean frowned. “Tran, you have a sweetheart at home.”

“Sir, she doesn’t need to know. I’m..uh… have needs.”

“Well, you do you. I’ll see you all tonight at briefing.” Dean said, nodding as he walked out. He could only hear Lisa saying, “I’m alright, thank you.” to Tran and everyone started to laugh before the door closed behind him.

 

_Dear Bambi,_

_I know I have only sent you a letter more than 10 days ago and you’re probably not even home yet._

_Just wanted to keep you in the loop of what’s going on. We captured Brest. You’d be proud of us all. Dopey didn’t make it though, I’m sorry about that, Jamie. There was nothing I could have done to prevent it. It’s not that I didn’t try. I told him to stay back, but I guess my men had taken a liking to you and your ways of not listening to me. He was a fine man, and I’m sorry that I couldn’t keep him alive._

_How are you? Did you arrive home alright? Is everything still the same? I’m dying to know about your life back home. Actually, anything that you could tell me that would take my mind off the war would be greatly appreciated._

_I haven’t heard from Sam in a while and that’s been bothering me. I kept sending him letters, but I haven’t received anything back. I put Cas on it, to try to find out, but Cas is rather busy and finding Sam is not his priority right now. There’s nothing I can do other than to sit here and wait._

_Fuck, Bambi, I miss you. I wish you were here. No wait, scratch that. If I could have a wish granted, I’d wish I would be there with you. Far away from war. That’d be great._

_I found your note, by the way. Did you really think that I wouldn’t find it?_

_Shit Bambi, I never knew what love felt like. I have never said the L-word to anyone else except of Sam and if I did in my youth, it was said without meaning, so I get it when you’re not ready to say it yet. Like I said, I never knew how it felt like, that’s why I had to ask Sam. You heard the letter I read to you. It feels like this, doesn’t it?_

_I’ll write again whenever I can. You take care and wait for me, alright? And please, this time, for once, do what I tell you to._

_Enclosed you can find a picture of me after I had a haircut today. Just so you remember how handsome I am._

_Yours,_

_Dean_

***

 

**September 24th, 1944**

_Dear Dean,_

_I’ve just arrived home yesterday. Your letter was not the only letter to greet me, but the only one to welcome me home. Thank you for that. Only it doesn’t feel like home. Home is where the heart is, or so they say, and my heart’s still with you. Do you hear it beating? Hold it tight and don’t let go, alright?_

_I have been reading through the letters my brothers sent to me during my absence. They must have been worried that I wasn’t writing them back. You remember Jim, right? He was with the paratroopers. He dropped off a package for me when he was in Saint Lo. It’s his reserve parachute. He said “it’s pure silk, Jamie. I’ve been holding on to it since I landed, and I want you to have it. I saw you today, and I could have given it to you, but I thought that you didn’t need to carry another useless garbage in your haversack. Make a wedding dress out of it, alright? You’ll look great in it. I love you, kid.” So, I’ve been crying since, but I’m alright, don’t you worry._

_Thank you for your picture, I’ll hang it on the door as to repel visitors._

_If I can find a decent one of me without snot hanging out of my nose or without one of my brothers in the frame with me, I’ll send it to you._

_I was joking, as you can see, there’s a picture of me, which Jameson took at our graduation. Behind the girl with long hair in her summer dress, you see our garden and our house._

_It feels so lonely here, Dean, and yes, I wish you could be here with me._

_I’m sorry about Dopey, too. Dean, it’s not your fault. I’ll go visit Trenton’s mom in the next couple of days. I’ve sent a telegram out to her right after I arrived. I thought I’d do that while I still have short hair. Wish me luck._

_Shit, I’m sorry to hear about Sam. I hope Cas can get on the case. He’s alright, Dean. He has to be._

_There’s not much news from here. Unless you want to read about what I need to clean next in the house? I don’t think it’s going to be of great interest, to be perfectly honest with you. As soon as everything settles around here, I plan to go back to school. Training to be a nurse or a teacher, I haven’t decided yet. So, there’s that about me. I’m quite the plain jane as you can see._

_Dean, before I end this letter, I wanted to thank you. Thanks for not exposing me and keeping me a secret. And maybe you think that once I’m back, I will go back to my old life, find a decent man who’s around, whom I could start a family with. I know you think that you and me, what we had was just a fling. Maybe it was a chance that we both took because we didn’t have anyone else around, but the truth is, I chose you, Dean and if I could go back, I’d choose you all over again. From the moment that you screamed in my face and looked at me with your angry green eyes, you had me._

_Thank you for keeping me alive._

_Love, Bambi_

***

 

**October 2nd, 1944**

Dean ran into Cas on the way out. They moved out towards Herzogenrath and things had been wild. Everyone scrambled around, picking up things that needed to be moved, and Dean still hadn’t heard from Sam.

“Cas! Sir!” He didn’t know how he should address Cas in the open, he tried both and Cas stopped.

“Dean,”

“Yeah. It’s me. Look, I know that we are moving out today and all. I just wanted to know if you’ve heard from Sam, is all.”

“No, not yet, Dean. I can put a word in today before we move out, alright?” He put a hand on Dean’s shoulder to calm him. Cas knew how close Dean and Sam were.

“Great. Thanks.” Dean nodded and he turned to walk out to the square when Cas called after him.

“I got a letter for you, almost forgot!”

Dean ran back to retrieve it. There was no address on it, but Dean knew from the writing that it was from Jamie. She was probably extra careful not to put any return address on it, just in case.

“Thanks.” He smiled brightly at Cas.

Dean sat on the steps as he read through it laughing at her use of his picture. He tucked the letter neatly back into his haversack and took his time to look at the photograph. Jamie, with long flowing brown hair. Her eyes were still as wide as he remembered them, and Dean wished for nothing more than to be able to hold her in his arms again.

The house in the back was big and old. It could use some fixing, and maybe Dean was thinking way ahead, but he would love to get his hands on the house and make it nice and homey again.

It was time to move out and Dean tucked the photograph in to his helmet, keeping it safe next to the note from Jamie and the picture of Sam - he had cut Anna and him out - and as close to him as possible.

 

_Dear Bambi,_

_We’ve moved out again. Baker’s time of retreat is over. It was too good to be true anyway. They even had a movie theater set up, but I spent my time reading. It wasn’t like I haven’t seen the movies 100 times over._

_I hope you’re well. Please tell me that you’re well. At least, I’d have some good news._

_I’m still so sorry about your brothers, Jamie. Jim was a fine man. He looked out for you. I bet you’d look fabulous in white silk, too. Maybe it’s a bit too far fetched but.. I don’t know.. could you maybe. Shit, I don’t even know how to phrase that. By the way, if you could see me, you’d be laughing at me because I’m red as a tomato. Well, to go back to what I’ve started, and I know you’d be mad at me if I would just change the subject; When you told me about the silk dress, I could picture you in it and shit, Bambi, in my imagination you look perfect, alright. I wish you’d make a wedding dress out of it and if it’s not too much to ask for - you can call me crazy - I don’t know, maybe I do secretly wish that the man who is standing beside you at your wedding would be me? Would that be too crazy?_

_How did Trenton’s mom react to your visit? If you haven’t been yet. Tell her that I said hi and that it was an honor for me to have him in my platoon. He did some excellent work and I mean, he was great, and I considered myself lucky that I was his leader. Tell her that if you’re still in contact, alright? Cas probably wrote out a letter to her already, but I wanted for her to hear it from me, too._

_Still no word from Sam, Jamie. I’m so fucking worried. Would you..I mean, could you maybe write to him, too? I mean, if it’s not too much trouble. I just… don’t know how else I could reach him. I don’t know, but maybe letters from home would reach him. Maybe it’s just our communication that’s been cut off? Honestly, I would like to abandon my platoon and go look for Sam, but that would get my ass in jail. It would mean that I wouldn’t get to go home to you either, so that’s not an option at the moment. Besides, I can’t leave family behind. I have written Sam’s coordinates down, in case you want to try to reach him._

_Did you see what I wrote? Family. It never felt like that until you came along. Thank you for that. You did something special, Bambi. You kept us together, you cared for us all and that meant something._

_You’re wrong on one thing, though. I didn’t think that it was just a fling. You are so much more, and maybe I’m wrong, but I knew the moment I screamed at you, sprayed my spit in your face, and looked into your big brown eyes that there was something wrong with you. I wrote to Sam about it, telling him that there’s something about you that I can’t put my finger on, and I felt it in my gut. So maybe we chose each other, huh? I’m glad it was you, and I’m glad it’s still you._

_I think you must have received a lot of letters from the men, didn’t you? I saw them penning letters to you. Tran and Harvelle. Even Sneezy. They all miss you. Me included, but you know that already._

_Alright, we’ve got Herzogenrath to assault. I will try to keep myself alive._

_And oh, Bambi? Please don’t put my photograph on your door? I mean, unless you want random women to come knocking it down asking who that handsome fella is, because they want to ask me out on a date, then yeah, just keep it there._

_Bye sweetheart. I’m coming home pretty soon. I can feel it._

_I love you. There, I said it. I miss you with every breath I take._

_Yours,_

_Dean_

 

***

 

**October 9th, 1944**

“Take cover! Get off the streets!” Dean could only yell as a shell hits the building behind him, leaving a hole as big as himself as it rained cinder blocks as big as his head.

He took his feet in his hand an ran for his life, pulling at the webbings of his men who stood there frozen when he passed them, getting them to run with him. “Get the fuck out! Move move!”

Dean screamed for his men to fucking get out of there, to fall the fuck back, and when he finally saw that everyone of them was running to their rendezvous point, he put his hand on his helmet, swung his rifle over his shoulders and ran.

There’s no way they were getting in. They had to find another way. He didn’t like to risk his men and Cas damn well knew it.

 

***

 

**October 11th, 1944**

Baker was tucked away sleeping in abandoned apartments and houses. Fox was on sentry and Dog was out on patrol. Baker had the night to regain their strength, and they fucking needed it. Herzogenrath was almost done, but there were still a couple of villages around that had German outpost that they need to take out. Dean could finally breathe again.

He was billeted with a couple men of his platoon. They didn’t have beds so they were just lying on the ground. Harvelle found a metal bucket and lit up a fire in the middle of the room. Some of the men were heating water for coffee.

Dean had his back against the wall, his helmet was lying next to him, and he took out the picture of Sam. Still no sign of him. To say that Dean was worried was an understatement.

“Coffee, sir?” Tran held out a metal mug and Dean took it, thanking him. Tran took the liberty to sit next to Dean, and they drank their coffee in silence.

Tran saw the picture in Dean’s hand. “Is that Sam?”

“Huh?” Dean then chuckled, tracing his fingers along his brother’s face on the picture. “Yeah, my brother. He’s in the field. I haven’t heard from him.”

“I’m sorry, sir.”

“It’s alright. I still have hope.” Dean tucked the picture back with his free hand.

“And that other picture?” Tran asked curiously.

Dean hesitated at first, he didn’t know if he should show it but then he thought, why not. Everyone was bragging about their sweethearts and besides, apart from the big eyes, Jamie didn’t look like the private Jamie. She looked like a woman and not a skinny private. “This?” He said, taking it out and showed it to Tran.

“That your girl, Lieutenant?”

“Huh,” Dean chuckled, his tongue wetting his bottom lip before he bit on it. “Yeah. That’s my girl.” There was a shy smile on Dean’s face. He never really had a girl to call his own, and to be able to say that, was kind of weird, but the good kind. Dean could get used to it.

“She’s fucking beautiful.” Tran was still looking at the picture.

“Yeah, she is.” Dean trailed his fingers along her picture as if he tried to touch her.

“Shit, Harvelle, the Lieutenant has a total babe at home. Fuck, look at that.” Tran called out for Harvelle to come over and when Harvelle sat down, he peeked at the picture.

“Damn, Lieutenant. How did we not know?”

“Was that why you didn’t want to have a massage with what’s her name? Lana?” Tran asked Harvelle, probably deliberately saying a wrong name because he was still butthurt Lisa didn’t want to massage him, and Harvelle answered with Lisa.

“I’m not a big fan of screwing around.” Dean said dryly, and it was the truth. He did that a lot when he was younger, but no, he wasn’t going to do it when he had Jamie to go home to. He wasn’t going to fuck up the only thing that kept him going forward, the only thing that kept him alive.

“Well, I’m a big fan of her.” Harvelle pointed his chin at the picture.

“Me too.” Tran said as he looked at the picture again. “And she looks so familiar.”

Dean’s heart started to drum harder.

“Say, Lieutenant, is she maybe someone famous? I mean, I think I’ve seen her somewhere. I just don’t know where.”

“Yeah, you’re right. She looks damn familiar.” Harvelle agreed.

“Letters from home!” Gabriel walked by, and Dean had never been more happy about seeing Gabriel.

“Here, Winchester!” Gabe threw him the letters to his feet.

Dean tucked the picture back into his helmet before he got on to his feet to distribute the letters to his men.

He received one as well. It wasn’t from Sam, which he hoped that it would be. It was from Jamie which was really the next best thing.

He ripped the letter open, eager to read it and all the others did the same.

 

_Dear Dean,_

_Did you hear from Sam yet? I’ve penned him a letter, it should reach him the same day as you get that letter from me. I didn’t know what I should write to him, so I did my best in Jamie-style awkward letter penning. I hope it makes him smile a little._

_Your letter arrived just before I was about to leave to see Trenton’s mom. It took her longer to accept. I think she had to convince herself that she actually wanted to see me, so that’s a good thing, I guess, because then I could tell her about what you wanted me to. Dean, it was so emotional. She said that I should thank you from her. Trenton’s been writing home and telling them how good of a leader you are. He thought highly of you, and he wanted to be like you. She told me that Trenton also wrote them about me. About me being his best friend. I cried - you can probably imagine. She thanks you from the bottom of her heart, and she prays for you to come back home. Dean, never doubt yourself and your leadership, alright? I’m rooting for you. I’m waiting for you to come back. You were Trenton’s hero, and you are still mine._

_I wore a dress today. First time in what seemed like forever. Since I’ve been back, I walked around in Jameson’s clothes that are way too big for me. But today I thought I could try on my dress and it fits. I just need to remind myself that I should eat more so the dress will fit right again. Guess the front line does things to your body, huh? You would have loved it, though. But again, I think that you would love everything I put on. Even if it’s just some old men’s cotton underwear and a military undershirt and combat pants. But Dean, I looked really cute. Just saying. I found my mom’s old hat to go with it. You know, the hair is not long enough yet, but I’m getting there._

_The reason I wore a dress to venture out is that I’ve been feeling bad lately. I can’t keep food down, and I went to see my GP. He put it down to stress that I’m under - oh boy, if he only knew - but I think it’s something different so I went to see another GP._

_Everything’s fine, Dean. Don’t you worry about me, alright? I’m good. Better than good. You just take care of yourself and make sure you’re coming home to me. That’s your only job. Apart from killing Nazis, I mean._

_There’s big news that I’d like to tell you about but I can’t do it through a letter. I don’t know how to word. You’ve gotta come home so I can tell you, alright?_

_Hey, if I could I would roll my eyes at you right now for your comment about your picture. I’ll keep it save, don’t worry. Don’t need my neighbors coming around to ask who that fine dreamboat of a man is that’s been hanging on the front door. Because for now, you’re a secret I like to keep to myself. I’m not ready to share you yet._

_And to tell you the truth, you’re not crazy for imagining standing next to me on my wedding day. I’ve been doing the same.  
_

_I love you deeply._

_Always,_

_Jamie_

“Lieutenant?” A young private, probably one of the replacements, pulled Dean back to reality.

Dean looked up from the letter, his eyes a little teary. “Yeah?”

“Sir, Lieutenant Novak wants to see you.”

Dean cleared his throat as he folded the letter back and tucked it into his jacket. “Yeah, sure.”

He walked with the runner to the Company CP where Cas was waiting for him.

“Sir?”

“Dean,” Cas said and that was Dean’s clue that they were at ease. Otherwise, he was Lieutenant Winchester. “You wanna sit?” Cas turned the chair around for Dean.

Dean shook his head. “Nah, I’m good.”

Cas shrugged. “Alright,” He sat back on his desk and as usual, he grabbed his cigarette tin and took one out. “I’m not going to ask if you want one.”

“No.”

“I should cut the chase.” He lit one up and inhaled. “Dean, fuck, I don’t know how I should tell you this.”

_No. Don’t._

Dean felt nauseous.

“It’s Sam, Dean. They were on a patrol mission, clearing out a German outpost. He was standing where the grenade went off and was killed on impact.”

Dean didn’t hear the rest of the sentence. He dropped his helmet where he was stood and walked to the nearest wall to throw up, right there in the fucking company office, and he didn’t care one little bit.

He used both his hands to brace the wall and Dean knew that his stomach was empty, he hadn’t been eating properly in days and there was nothing going to come out anymore, but the feeling of throwing up was still there so Dean choked and retched until he felt his head spin.

“Dean, hey, hey.” Cas put his arm around Dean’s shoulder and Dean tucked his head between his hands, the cool wall on his forehead providing little relief. His body began to shake and vibrate, and Dean didn’t even know that he was crying. The sound that came out were alien to him. He felt tears dropping from the tip of his nose.

_Sam._

Dean clenched his fists, punching at the wall, and he kept on crying and punching until the skin around his knuckles felt raw. Until his knuckles were bleeding.

_Sammy._

“Shit, Dean. I’m so sorry.” Cas started to say, his hand rubbing at Dean’s back as he stood there. He’s here for him as a friend and not his CO. Dean knew that much. It soothed him and it made him calm down, because he realized that he wasn’t alone. That he was still in the middle of a war and fuck, he just wanted to go home. He just wanted to crawl into Bambi’s arms and cry his eyes out. She’d hold him. She’d be the rock that he was missing.

He wanted to ask if he could see Sammy for one last time, but he knew that it was logistically not possible. Besides, he didn’t even know if there was enough left of Sam to be identified.

_Oh fuck, Sammy!_

It took a while for Dean to regain his composure, to feel like he wasn’t in a fucking nightmare.

He rubbed his bloody and bruised hand over his eyes and face and pinched the bridge of his nose before his hands searched for the chair Cas offered. He took a seat and picked up his helmet from the floor. He took out Sam’s picture to look at his brother.

“Fuck, Dean. It means you can go home. The regiment will take you off, deem you 4-G. you’re getting to go home.”

Dean didn’t want to tell Cas that home wouldn’t be the same if Sam wasn’t in it. There was no home without Sam. It never had been a home to him when he couldn’t get back to Sam at the end of the day. But then he thought of Jamie and took out her picture. He still had Jamie to live for, and he knew that Sam wouldn’t want to have it any other way. Sam would rip him a new one if Dean backed out from going home. If Dean backed out of having a future that was cut short for Sam. Sam would want him to be happy.

_Shit, Sam!_

Dean buried his head back in his hand, the pictures crumbling in his palms.

“When will I go?” It was a whisper, but Dean knew that Cas heard him well.

“That’s the thing. You’d have to wait until we reach Aachen. Can you do that? You’ll get to go as soon as we reach Aachen. The regiment can’t send someone to fetch you while we’re still here.”

Dean sniffed and brushed the back of his hand at his nose. “Yeah, okay.” He felt numb.

“I hate to see you go, Dean.”

Dean nodded. He wanted to say something. Anything. Maybe something along the lines of _I don’t wanna go either, Cas_ , or  _I don’t want to abandon my family_. But the words wouldn’t come out. Because more than anything, he wanted to go home.

“Take a rest. We’ll be moving forward soon.”


	15. Chapter 15

**October 13th, 1944  
**

They marched toward Aachen in the middle of the night. The drumming of firearms could be heard, and it was astonishing how quickly an army can collapse. Baker went from being part of a well-armed, highly mechanized force to being lost in the open field.

Dean found himself with Harvelle and private Barnes running up against a hill that provided at least a little cover. The shells rained on them, and there was simply nothing they could have done other than run. Dean heard a crack and a sharp pain tore through his shin and the next thing he knew, he was lying on the ground in the damp autumn leaves. 

“Fuck.” 

“Sir, you ok?” Harvelle was beside him, his hand fisted in Dean’s webbing and he pulled Dean up.

“Shit, yeah. I just… ah!” Dean tried to balance his weight on both his legs but one of them would give out. “I think I broke my shin bone.” 

“Shit, sir.” Barnes was on the other side of Dean, and then he ran away, returning with a branch. “Here,” Barnes worked swiftly, taking out the first aid kit from his webbing and secured the branch around Dean’s leg to support it. “Until we get to an aid station, sir.”

“Thank you, private.” Dean bit through his pain and surprisingly, it worked. He could keep going, although painfully and slow, but he could keep walking.

They lost track of their platoon and their whole company, hell, their whole infantry. Apart from a map and a compass, Dean had nothing on him. His rifle was long abandoned since he ran out of ammunition, and so were Harvelle and Barnes.

“Let’s rest here for the night.” Harvelle suggested when they came to an evergreen tree with low hanging branches. “It should keep us hidden for the night. We’ll go find the others in the morning.” 

Dean had never been more thankful to have Harvelle around, because he couldn’t think straight anymore. There were so many thoughts in his head, and they kept screaming at him. He had trouble sorting them.

“You ok, Lieutenant?” Barnes asked, fishing out his canteen from his webbing and handing it to Dean. 

“You look out for yourself, alright, Barnes. I’m good. Thanks.” 

They huddled together for the night, with Dean in the middle. He didn’t know how he deserved to have such great friends who took care of him even though he wasn’t always the best friend to them. He knew that he’d been an asshole at times. 

“If we ever get out I’m getting myself some damn pie.” Dean chuckled to himself, trying to humor the men and they laughed with him.

“I want to see Lisa.” Harvelle said. 

“So you two, huh?” Dean raised an eyebrow.

“Yeah. I’d like to think that.” Harvelle mumbled and Dean was sure that if there would be light, he would see Harvelle blushing.

Barnes said that he’d like to see his high school sweetheart again. She sent him a Dear John letter when he was still in Basic. 

“What’s the name of your girl, Lieutenant?” Barnes asked, and the question caught Dean off guard. 

Dean nibbled on his bottom lip, deciding if he should tell them or not. He figured that getting out alive wasn’t guaranteed, and if they did their bond would be beyond anything superficial. He knew that he trusted them to keep it to themselves.

“Jamie.” He answered.

“Jamie?” Harvelle raised an eyebrow in question.

“Yeah, Jamie.” Dean repeated again.

“As in Jamie Blum?” Barnes asked.

“Yeah.” 

“What? You queer Lieutenant?” Barnes was confused, and Harvelle laughed at that.

“No, I’m not.” Dean couldn’t hide his grin.

“No shit sir, I knew that Jamie wasn’t what he said he was, but I didn’t want to say anything because he did a freaking good job.” 

“She did a good job, yes.” Dean said, his voice low. “I wanna go home to her.” 

“Well shit sir, we gonna haul your ass back, that’s for sure. At least one of us should have a happy ending. You fought for it, you damn well deserve it.” 

“Barnes,” Dean chuckled. “Stop crawling up my ass.” 

“Yes, sir.”

 

 

**October 14th, 1944**

Dean couldn’t sleep. So he volunteered to keep watch while the other two were asleep beside him. It was dawn when he heard the snap of fallen branches being stepped on. 

_Shit._

He could sense that the Germans were closing in on them.

There was only one way out. Dean hated to admit it, but it was better than being shot at. He woke up Harvelle and Barnes to talk them through his plans. He would go out alone to give them a chance to get away. It was the only route they could take, but they wouldn’t hear it. They wouldn’t abandon him. “No shit sir, we’re in this together. We’re not leaving you behind.” 

Harvelle took off his white undershirt and secured the shirt to a branch that they found. 

There were four German soldiers with rifles. “Halt! Hände nach oben wo wir sie sehen können!”

Dean didn’t need to have a German degree to know that it meant that they should show their hands.

Dean had a broken leg, and Harvelle was waving a white flag. They all had their hands in the air while the German pointed their rifles at them, and all Dean could think was  _please don’t shoot, please don’t fucking shoot_.

The Germans marched them to a barn and although it hurt like hell, Dean sucked it up. He couldn’t show that he was vulnerable. He knew that if they thought that Dean wasn’t well enough to be moved, he would be shot - point blank - and left behind.

They were holed up in a small room until a German officer arrived. He pointed for Dean to come with him.  _That’s it. That’s how I’m going to die._ That was Dean’s only thought, and it was on repeat in his echoing mind.

The officer asked him questions. His English was broken and Dean’s German was non-existence. When the officer knew that he couldn’t understand a word Dean said anyway, he let Dean go, probably deciding that Dean needed to be interrogated by someone else. Nonetheless they thought that Dean would maybe be valuable to them since he was an officer and had intel. They were determined to keep him alive. He returned to Harvelle and Barnes with a loaf of bread and some kind of stinking German sausage.

 

 

**October 16th, 1944**

They rounded Dean up with the rest of the POW they captured in the last couple of days and Dean was glad that he didn’t see any familiar faces. Just someone he thought was from Gabriel’s unit, but he couldn’t be sure because the soldier had a bandage that covered his face.

Dean’s leg was giving him troubles. It was swollen, it hurt less though, so there was that. Dean needed to keep biting on his lips and keep going. 

They started marching. Hundreds of them and even though Harvelle and Barnes tried to help Dean, he wouldn’t let them. There was no need to show them that he was weak and plus, he didn’t want to pull Harvelle and Barnes down with him.

 

 

**October 18th, 1944**

Finally after more than a day, they reached a railroad. The train was a line of boxcars, maybe even the same one they used to transport people to the concentration camps. They pushed the prisoners inside and locked it up. Dean was thirsty, but there were people around him that were dying so he guessed that being thirsty was the least of his problems at that moment. 

They spent days in that carriage, without food or water, and two steel helmets became a latrine for over 80 men. It was terrible.

The train halted every so often on the way, and there were prisoners getting on and off but never Dean or his friends. 

Finally they arrived at Stalag IV-B. It was near an eastern town called Mühlberg. They lined him, and the others in front of barracks. He waited until it was his turn to enter the building. 

There were about five desks lined up and they were occupied with 5 men who were sitting there, waiting to interrogate the prisoners. Dean could see that they wore British officers uniform and they spoke in an English accent. It didn’t make much sense that the British were at German camps, but again, Dean hadn’t eaten or drank anything in days, he was delirious, and it could have well been German officers who spoke perfect English. He didn’t know anymore.

Dean could hear the questions being asked to the men in front of him, and they were revealing too much. In training, Dean was told that the only information he should supply was his name, rank, and serial number. Nothing more, nothing less. 

It was Dean’s turn now. 

“What’s your name?”

“Dean Winchester.”

“What’s your rank?”

“Lieutenant.”

“What’s your serial number?”

Dean had trouble remembering for a moment before it came to him and he rattled it to the interrogator. 

The questions didn’t stop, though. What’s your outfit? Where were you captured? Where are you from? Parent’s name? Religion?

Dean answered them with “Sorry, sir.”

“How long has it been since you’ve eaten?” 

“Probably a couple of days, sir.” 

“Lieutenant, I will ask these questions one more time. If you don’t answer, you won’t eat for another two weeks!”

Not answering them would be suicide, because two weeks could turn into a month, a month could turn into two; until Dean would be withering away. So he answered, because he made a promise. He wanted to go home.

After the questioning they let him walk, out and he was assigned to a barrack. They took him to the infirmary, too. It turned out that his bones began to grow back together, although funnily. They didn’t have surgeon’s there that could correct it, and so Dean was given pain killers to endure it until it got better. 

However, Barnes wasn’t that lucky. They rounded them up one time and selected out the Jewish prisoners to be transferred. Dean didn’t know where they have taken Barnes, but he hoped that it wouldn’t be a freaking concentration camp. 

 

 

**October 23rd, 1944**

Dean could move around freely in the camp, at least as good as his leg allowed. He was a commissioned officer so, according to the Geneva Convention on Prisoners of War, he was not required to work. He would see Harvelle who was a NCO working outside sometimes, but the NCO’s only had supervisory roles. It was just his luck to not have to see his friend suffer. Apart from Barnes, that is. Dean hoped that he was ok.

Every now and then, Dean would take a walk out. He still had a limp, but it got better every day. He knew that the duty of a POW was to escape when possible, even if there was no real hope of getting home. The reason for this was because every escaped prisoner took the efforts of thousands of enemy soldiers to search for them, soldiers who would otherwise be able to fight at the front. Even getting away for a few hours was a help in tying up the enemy.

Dean would have maybe tried it if his legs wouldn’t have been fucked up or if he had nothing to look forward to at home. But he made a promise. He was going to fucking get back to Bambi, even if it meant that he would probably lose a leg. A leg was still better than his life. 

The only thing that kept Dean alive were the letters he wrote to Jamie. Her address had been stripped off of him, as well as her note. The only thing he had was the photographs he kept in his helmet. The letters couldn’t be sent out to her because he wasn’t allowed to write a lot. They were strict, only allowing them to write letters that were two sides of notepaper. The only thing that kept Dean going was the letters he wrote that he intended to give to her whenever he got out. He just hoped that he’d live to see the day.

*

_Dear Bambi,_

_I wasn’t so lucky. Harvelle, Barnes, and me were separated from the whole company. Some Krauts found us, and brought us back to camp. I broke my shin bone. Don’t worry, it started to grow back, apparently. I’m just limping. I hope you won’t be appalled by that. Yeah, you’re right, I’m talking bullshit. Of course you wouldn’t._

_Fuck, Jamie, they asked me so many things, and I told them everything I knew. I try to keep myself alive and you know why? Because I made you a promise, and I want to go back. Back home to you._

_Barnes was rounded up and collected for transport. He’s Jewish, did you know that? I didn’t. Which is another thing that angers me. What does it matter if someone is Jewish or not? We fight the same war, we breathe the same air, hell, we’re all humans. Well, now I really can’t send out this letter, because it would probably get me killed. Not that I could because they took all my belongings, including your address and shit, Jamie, all I have is your photograph. I’m so fucking thankful for that._

_You told me in your last letter that you wrote to Sam. I’m sorry that I couldn’t answer your letter. There simply was no time to pen a letter out before I got captured. Jamie, Sammy.. Sam, he.. shit. I even have trouble writing it. He got killed. Stood too close to an explosive. I was devastated. I had no reason to live anymore until I remembered that there’s still something worth living for. It’s you, Bambi._

_Sam would have wanted that. Sam would kick my ass if I gave you up. Sammy would haunt me in my dreams if I let the opportunity of something good slip out of my grip. Hold on, alright, I’m coming home. Soon-ish. Hopefully._

_Shit, you’re probably worried about why I didn’t write you back. Why your letters won’t be sent back or answered. I don’t even know if the Red Cross has gotten the information that I’m here. So far no care packages have been distributed. Hell, I don’t even know if Cas knows that I’m here._

_Harvelle is doing good. He’s been working a little, but I’m off work for good. The war is over, Bambi. At least for us._

_I’ll be moved to another camp soon, though. They are making arrangements and word is that it’s even better than this one. Maybe I’ll get to sleep somewhere warm? It’s freaking cold during the night and while I’m used to being out in the cold, I feel like I’ve never been this cold before. Maybe I’ll even get someone to look at my fucked up leg. Who knows. But yeah, somewhere warm would be nice. There are prisoners dying of pneumonia here and that’s the last thing I want to be. Dead, I mean. I’ve come this far._

_Harvelle and Barnes told me that I deserve to go back and be happy with you, you know. Yeah, you’d probably punch me, but I told them about you. Harvelle knew it already. He said that it was weird that you never had to shave and that your legs weren’t hairy. He said he didn’t really know that you were a girl, but he thought that you maybe a very feminine guy. Guess he was a little disappointed that I’m not queer. I think he has a crush on me. But also I’m a fucking dreamboat, so can’t blame him for trying._

_I wish I could send this out. Let you know that I’m fine. That you shouldn’t worry. I’m also curious to know about your big news and god, I wish I could see you in that dress._

_I’ll see you soon, alright? Sit tight, sweetheart._

_Yours,_

_Dean_

 

 

**December 24th, 1944**

_Dear Jamie,_

_We’ve marched over 200 miles through mud and snow. I’m still limping. So there’s that. But I survived. I saw men collapsing in front of me. They were shot at, and transported to a place where they put the dead bodies onto a pile. It was terrible._

_I’ve been in Oflag XIII-B for a couple of days now. I was transferred through other camps on the way though. They have trouble rearranging the prisoners because they caught so many. I hope we’re still winning. Are we winning?_

_It’s even colder here than the first camp I’ve been. I don’t think it’s over 20°F at night. I’m freezing my ass off, Bambi. Wish you could be here to keep me warm. No, wait, if I gotta wish for something, I’d wish for me to be there with you, where it’s warm. In your arms. Or you in mine. I’m not particularly picky at the moment. You can bury your face right into the crook of my neck like you always did. I’d love that._

_I lost sight of Harvelle. Shit, I hope he’s ok. We went through the first two camps together, and then we got separated._

_I think the Red Cross had forgotten about us. I haven’t received a single letter or care package from them since I’ve been imprisoned, but there are a couple of officers from Serbia and they share. They’re good people, you know. We talk a lot, at least we try to but the language barrier is a bitch. Nonetheless they seem to understand what I was saying and vice versa. We’re all humans, we communicate with hands and feet and we laugh and cry together. It’s good, Jamie. Not as good as being home. Way worse than being with you, but I’m getting there. I’m working to get there._

_I keep your picture with me all the time. I don’t dare to leave it laying around. Who knows? Maybe they’d take it away from me, or one of the Serbian officers needs to jack off to the picture, and I can’t let that happen. If someone is going to jack off to the photograph, I think it’s my fucking right that that someone should be me, don’t you think? Who knows, I maybe did a couple of times. Don’t shame me, alright. I’m lonely and there’s nothing but men and a couple of nurses that look like they could end me if I say the wrong thing so yeah. You and me, we both know that I’m not queer. And besides, even if I was, I wouldn’t stray. I have you to look forward to._

_No, but seriously, I keep it with me all the time because it’s the last thing I have that feels like home._

_I bet your hair’s longer now, and I can picture you sitting in your warm home, in your sundress (I know it’s cold, but I can dream, right?) and smiling. I hope you smile, Bambi. I hope you’re not sad that I stopped sending letters to you. Maybe you did hear from the others, maybe Tran - if he’s still alive, that I’m MIA? I hope the news reached you so at least you’d have closure. I’m not MIA. I’m very well still here, I know where I am, but I don’t know if everyone knows. I hope that Tran can send you a letter, saying what happened. He doesn’t know about Sam though, so that’s going to be a surprise for you._

_I’m sorry that I can’t be there for you, writing you letters that would reach you. I’m sad that you can’t be here for me, too. You can’t even imagine what I would give to hear from you._

_I’m not allowed to send letters to my old company. In fact, I’m not allowed to send letters to the regiment at all. It should go via Red Cross, but I guess the Red Cross is not really giving a shit about me right now. Maybe they do, but they’re busy because god, I saw how many of us there were. Marching through snow and cold and there were new faces every day._

_I guess being POW is still better than dying. At least for me. So that’s also good. But what do I know? I’m a commissioned officer, I don’t have to do anything else than exist. There are others who go through hard labor every day. I feel for them. I wish I could help but I’m just one in a million, and I have a fucked up leg._

_The reason for this letter was only to wish you a Merry Christmas, but I guess I went slightly off the rails._

_So, Merry Christmas, sweetheart._

_I hope you are having a good one and you are warm._

_Shit, I miss you so fucking much._

_Yours,_

_Dean_

 

**February 14th, 1945**

_Dear Jamie,_

_The situation has not changed. I’ve scribbled out notes to you, but there was just nothing happening around here. I guess that it must be boring for you to hear about my daily life which consists of doing next to nothing._

_I walk around a lot, though. Trying to keep me going and keep my strength. I can now run a little too, and I do regular exercise. Still limping, but hey, I get used to it. I try to keep myself in shape for when I go back to you. So that you’d still know me when you see me and not, like, being only skin and bones._

_We don’t have enough food around though, so I lost a lot of weight. Thanks to the Serbian officers, we still have enough to keep us going. They share their Red Cross packages on a daily basis. I always get the raisins though. I used to hate raisins but now it’s just like, whatever I can fit in my belly, I do. Guess being starved does things to you._

_Your picture is slowly fading, but I still keep it in my pocket. I just have to limit the amount of time I take it out because that way, it’ll stay longer. I still jack off to it, though, so there’s that. Benjamin, a Serbian officer walked in on me doing it and asked if he could borrow the picture. It nearly ended in a fist fight, but we’re best friends now. And no, I didn’t let him borrow the picture, don’t worry. Told him to stay well in his lane._

_I had a dream about you, Bambi. We were back at Brest. I don’t know what I said or did, but you were so fucking mad at me. You practically spit your words in my face. I told you not to walk away, but you still did. I spent the day making it up to you. I kept trying until you were talking to me again. It started as a nightmare and god, I don’t wanna relive it again. If I should ever do something that angers you, please don’t just walk away. Alright? I hate that. I.. fuck, and I was so scared that you’d leave. Jamie, you’re the only thing that keeps me going. That keeps me the fuck alive. I don’t wanna lose that. If I lose you, I have nothing left. I might as well go on hunger strike and wither away or maybe find a rifle and blow my head with it. I don’t know.. I’m sorry I’m being all pessimistic, but..shit..Bambi I’ve been here for so long and there’s no sign of getting out. I’m so fucking scared that I won’t get to see your face again, and that’s all I want. Seeing you. Seeing you smile at me._

_I don’t even know if you’re romantic. I guess we all have a little romance in us, but the reason for this letter was to wish you Happy Valentine’s Day. I wish I could show you how much you mean to me._

_Hold on, alright? Because I am._

_I love you so fucking much, and I’m afraid that I’ll smother you with it. Sorry._

_Yours,_

_Dean_

 

 

**March 27th, 1945**

There were shouts of Americans and Germans, and the shells and mortars were raining over his head. Dean found a place to hide, because there was no way he was going into combat with a fucked up leg and especially without a freaking weapon on him.

He heard Germans running to defend the gates, and there were Americans shouting for them to give up. 

They’ve come. They have come to free them. 

It was a disaster, though. The mission was a failure and when everything was over. Dean walked out of his barracks to the bodies of several hundred American soldiers. Some buildings were destroyed, but none of the prisoners could escape. 

 

 

**March 31st, 1945**

_Dear Jamie,_

_I don’t even know when your birthday is. So if it’s today, Happy Birthday sweetheart._

_Other than that, I’ve been transferred to another camp. Oflag XIII-B had been destroyed in an attempt to liberate the prisoners. There were destroyed Tanks and corpses everywhere, Jamie._

_I had hope that they would succeed, that I could walk out of there alive. Well, I mean, I am still alive, but I’m also still a prisoner. They evacuated us and marched us another 100 miles to another camp. I’m now at Stalag-VII-A, and maybe one of the reasons the Red Cross don’t know about me is because I’ve been moved so many freaking times._

_Jamie, I wanted to tell you that I have given up a little hope. Don’t get me wrong, I still wanna get out of here. I still have your picture in my pocket - now I’m even more careful about it because this camp is much bigger, and I would not want to lose your picture - but I think it was unfair of me to make you wait for me. Thank god you didn’t get the letters that I begged you to wait for me. I mean, I hope that you would, but I get it. I wouldn’t be mad if you didn’t. It has been what? 5 months? You deserve happiness, Bambi, and if I could make you happy, believe me, I would. There’s no question about it. I’m here, still breathing and talking shit, but I’m not with you. It’s not my place to tell you to wait. I hope you can find happiness Jamie. I hope you can find a good man who would be there for you, take care of you, and give you everything you want and need. I wish I could be that man, but I’m not._

_One day, if I get out of here, I will come see you anyway. I will find your address and I will turn up at your door. I will give you all the letters and notes that I’ve been scribbling down since my capture. I just want to give it to you, nothing more. I’ll be out of your hair if you don’t want me to stay, but if you do, I’d be happy to._

_I just want you to know that I have never forgotten you. You’re the first thing on my mind when I wake up in my sorry excuse for a bed. You’re the last thing on my mind before I count sheep and try to fall asleep and dream of you._

_I hope you find peace, Bambi and most of all, I hope that you’re happy._

_I’m not telling you to hold on. I love you, is all._

_Yours,_

_Dean_


	16. Chapter 16

**April 29th, 1945**

“What’s your name?” 

Dean looked at the soldier who had a tight grip on his arm as he walked him out of the camp. There were American soldiers everywhere, and they loaded up the POWs into deuce-and-a-halfs. 

“Winchester. Dean Winchester.” Dean replied, his mouth felt dry. 

The soldier stalled to scribble something on a piece of paper. “What’s your rank? Which was your company?”

Dean took his time to remember. “Lieutenant,” He began to speak. “Lieutenant Dean Winchester, 2nd Battalion, 116th Regiment, 29th Infantry Division. Baker Company.”

“Alright,” He scribbled it down before he guided Dean to the truck. “You’re going to be alright, Lieutenant. We’ll get you checked up and if there should be anything you need, just let us know.”

“You should take care of the others first. I’m okay.” Dean said as he looked around. There were prisoners and soldiers everywhere and it was hard to keep track, but there were people who needed help more than he did. He was walking and talking, he was alright. 

“Sir, we’re going barrack by barrack. It’s alright, you just let us take care.”

“My.. shit,” Dean wanted to turn around, run back to his barrack to retrieve the letters that he had stuffed into a musette bag. “My letters, I gotta go back for them.” 

“No problem, sir. They’re all here.” The soldier patted the bag that he hung around his shoulder.

“Oh,” 

“Yeah, wouldn’t want to leave important things, behind, would we. I know how important these are.” He smiled to him. The soldier waited until Dean was sitting in the deuce-and-a-half. He saluted Dean before the truck drove off with Dean sitting there, clinging to his musette bag. 

 

 

**May 1st, 1945**

Everything happened so quick. Dean thought he was dreaming. The liberation. Prisoners cheering and then the long drive in the bed of the truck until they brought him over to England for a check up.

“Shit, your leg is fucked up.” The doctor said to him.

“Tell me something I don’t know, doc.” Dean replied dryly. He didn’t want to actually stay there longer than he had to. If he had a say, he’d be on a freaking boat sailing towards homeland right about now.

But apparently, that wasn’t good enough for them to let him go. “We have to fix it properly.” They were so adamant to fix things. As if they were trying to make good on leaving him behind. There was no other option for Dean than to undergo a surgery, let them break his leg again and put on a cast so it could grow back properly. 

However, they were so understaffed that they could only get him into surgery in two weeks time, since his case is not deemed a priority. 

He met Harvelle though, so that was a good thing. Harvelle saluted him when he came to stand before him in the hospital corridor. He looked good. Dean thought he looked excellent for what he went through. 

“Sir.” Harvelle said and Dean could see the glimmer of tears in the sergeant’s eyes. 

 _Fuck this._ Dean thought to himself and pulled Harvelle in for a hug. 

They spent the afternoon together, sitting and talking. 

“I’m going home.” Harvelle said, a grin on his face. 

“Yeah, you go there, tell them I’m coming, too.”

“I’m so glad I ran into you, sir.” Harvelle got up to his feet and he faced Dean. He saluted one last time and Dean did the same. “It was a pleasure and an honor to serve with you, Lieutenant. I’m glad you were my leader.”

“Oh please, no chick flick moments, alright?”

They both chuckled behind tears. 

“Tell Bambi hi from me, alright.”

“Yeah. I will.” Dean didn’t want to tell Harvelle that he didn’t even know if Jamie wanted to see him. He didn’t know if Bambi was still waiting or not. He was going to go there anyway, even if it was only for him to give her the letters. He wasn’t writing to her anymore. Hadn’t been since he was liberated. He would rather talk to her in person. 

 

 

**June 21st, 1945**

Dean sat on a bus, riding towards Trenton, North Carolina with a weird feeling in his gut. He had to stop over night and booked himself a small motel room, but he couldn’t sleep. Counting sheep did not work at all. His mind was racing around Bambi. He wondered how she would react to seeing him again, but most of all, if she’d remember him at all. 

He contacted Cas and caught up with him while he was recovering from his surgery. He begged for Cas to give him Bambi’s address. Cas was doing great. He’d been promoted to Captain after Dean was reported MIA. He still had a long military career ahead of him, and he was going to stay in Germany for quite a while longer. 

Dean still had a cast. He was impatient to get on a ship. They said that it would take another two weeks until he could take it off, but he couldn’t wait. He thought that he had waited long enough. 

He walked weirdly from the bus station to Jamie’s house and people were staring. To be fair, he couldn’t blame them. His cast ended just below his knee. He had his uniform pants cut off just above the knee and there was a patch of exposed flesh, but yeah, Dean simply didn’t care. The bar of shame was only so high as people would allow it and honestly, Dean’s bar was non existent. He’d lost all of his shame back in Germany, at the latest when Benjamin came barging in when Dean was jerking off to Bambi’s picture. 

His heart was beating out of his chest when he walked down the driveway of the house. He was sure it could be heard from miles away. It reminded him of the rhythmic sound of army boots on dirt roads that used to calm him. 

The house still looked like in the picture that Jamie sent him. It was a beautiful evening. The sun was still high in the sky and the wind carried a salty tint to it. Dean saw the mailbox. _Blum_ was painted onto it in uneven and colorful letters. They probably did it while they were still kids, or Jamie did it. He figured he should probably not mention it to avoid a dig in his rib cage. 

He walked up to the mailbox and his eyes fell to the porch. There was a man sitting in a lazy chair. 

Dean gulped, swallowing down the anxiety that burned in his throat as his eyes settled on a newborn baby in the man’s arms. Dean could’ve died right there. _She moved on. She’s a mother._ Dean could see that his right leg was missing. Probably a veteran like he was. It made sense that Jamie would find comfort in someone who knew what she went through. Dean just wished that someone was him.

The man eyed him up suspiciously, and he already had a hand on his stick, ready to stand up and probably chase him away. 

Dean stalled for a moment.

“Good evening, sir.” He was there for a reason, after all, whether she waited or not. He wouldn’t break his promise to her. It was the least he could do. Dean began to stutter. “I..uh..I-I..I’m looking for Jamie.” 

“She’s inside.” 

Shit, why did he think that coming there would be a good idea? She probably didn’t even want to see him. Clearly Jamie moved on, and Dean was happy for her. He really was, but it hurt nonetheless. He Had a hard time staying straight faced. 

“Should I call her?” 

“I..uh..no, no. That’s okay.” Dean walked closer and leaned his stick against the house, before he opened up his bag that he still had slung around his shoulder. 

He fished out the letters with trembling fingers. He didn’t know why he was so clumsy all of a sudden, but he dropped half of the pages. They fluttered to the ground in what felt like slow motion. When Dean tried to retrieve them, his bag hit the ground, sending his stick onto the ground, too. 

He left the bag and everything on the ground and came up red faced. Dean felt his ears burning up from shame. Guess the bar wasn’t that high after all, huh? His fingers tried to sort themselves through the pages of letters, careful not to mess up the order. He knew the man had to want him to leave. Dean looked like a bumbling idiot, shuffling papers on his hands and knees in front of his old flame’s home, staring straight into the eyes of her new husband and child. “I.. shit, I just wanted to give her these, sir.” He was still sorting it through when the man called in for Jamie, the newborn still sleeping peacefully in his arms. 

Dean could hear footsteps on the inside, and shit, Dean wasn’t prepared. He suddenly wished his leg was healed so he could run. He rehearsed it in his head, imagined their reunion, but he had never imagined what he would do if he saw another man with a baby on her porch. 

She was coming out, and Dean was still awkwardly sorting through the letters. 

Shit, his heart was beating out of his chest. Suddenly, he didn’t feel like seeing her anymore. He felt like he was making a huge mistake. After all that time and everything that he’d been through, he knew that his luck wasn’t good enough to have things go well. _You get what you get._  

“Doesn’t matter, sir. I’ll be..I’ll just see myself out. I’ll be out of your hair in a bit… I… uh… I just wanna leave them here.” Finally he rearranged the letters and placed them onto the stairs. He put a stone he found on it as not to let the wind carry the pages away. 

Dean picked up his bag, his stick, and he was already turning around when he heard her voice. 

“Dean?”

_Shit._

Dean closed his eyes at the sound of her voice.

He didn’t know if he should turn around. Didn’t know if he wanted to see her, because if he saw her, he would have a fucking damn hard time walking away from her. Dean knew that much.

“Dean, is that you?” 

He still had his eyes close and breathed in and out. He never thought it would be so hard to turn around and see her again. 

“Dean.” 

Her voice was shaking, and Dean had to. He knew that he had to turn around. 

He swallowed down the tears that were biting in the back of his skull, because he didn’t want her to see him cry. 

And then he turned.

Jamie stood on the porch, and she looked as beautiful as ever. No, that was a lie. She was more beautiful now. She had curves and her hair was long. She was not the private anymore. She was a beautiful girl with a sundress that complimented her eyes. The eyes that were still the same size and _oh god_ , that smile that made Dean’s knees weak. 

She let out a squeal of excitement before she ran down the steps and flung herself into his arms, and Dean wasn’t prepared. He dropped his bag and stick quickly and he wrapped his arms around her. He wasn’t steady on his leg, but he managed to not fall on his ass when she collided with him. 

She wrapped her legs around his body, hooking her bare feet at his back, her soles digging into his spine. His arms wrapped around her, holding her up, and one resting on the back of her neck as he pressed her closer. She buried her face in the crook of his neck and cried. Dean felt her tears streaking his neck and fuck, he cried, too. He buried his face in her hair, inhaling the scent that she carried. It wasn’t camouflage cream and war. It was sweet Summer breeze and flowers.

Bambi looked at him as she cradled his cheeks between the palms of her hands. She trailed her fingers across his face, painting his eyebrows with the tip of them, connecting his freckles, and she looked at him so intense, as if she didn’t believe that he was there. She kissed him then, and it felt like something Dean has been waiting to do for so long. It was sweet and reminded him of honey. It was just the two of them in the entire world.

“It’s you.” She muttered when she parted and rested her forehead on his. “It’s really you.” 

“I made it.” He sniffed. “I promised.”

“You did.” She smiled, kissing the tip of his nose.

And then it was like she remembered something. “Sam?” 

Dean closed his eyes as another flood of tears were stinging at them. “No.” It was the only thing he could say, and she understood because she hugged him tighter, letting him bury his face in the warmth of her hair and neck. Dean cried.

“I’m sorry.” She said over and over, and Dean nodded. He knew that she was. 

Jamie didn’t ask where he was and what took him so long. Never asked why he didn’t answer her. All of it didn’t matter at the moment, and Dean was glad because he wouldn’t know how to begin to tell her about all the things he’d been through. She’d read it in the letters, he thought.

After a while, she writhed herself out of his grip, and Dean put her back down. “I’m sorry, I should have said that I’m coming. I just.. I’m not staying. I just wanted to drop the letters.” Dean pointed his chin towards the letter, well aware that the man was still watching them. What kind of man lets his woman kiss another man right in front of him? Dean figured the guy should kick his ass, but he was grateful that he didn’t. 

She picked up the letters and walked back to Dean. “You never got the chance to send them.”

“No.” 

She nodded at him and then her free hand found his, and she laced her fingers through them before she smiled. “Come on, I want you to meet someone special.” 

_Someone special._

It felt like someone shot a hole through Dean’s heart. He didn’t want to back out now, though. He’d come that far. Jamie was still someone who kept him alive, and the very least Dean could do was being civil about it.

He climbed up the porch, his cast banged against the wood, and he told them that he was sorry for the loud noise he was making. He was afraid that he would wake up the baby. 

Dean stood there, facing the man, and the baby in the man’s arm was still sleeping peacefully. What an angel.

“Sir, you’re Lieutenant Winchester?” The man asked him and there was an excitement in his voice. Something Dean couldn’t miss.

“Yes.” 

“Well, shit, Jamie. He’s even better looking than in the photograph!” The man grinned brightly and looked from Bambi back to Dean. 

Is he? Dean didn’t know, he thought he was probably doing alright again. He’d lost a lot of weight, but it was slowly coming back. He’d been eating for three lately and sun did kiss his skin good on the way over on the deck of the ship. 

“Shut it.” Bambi said, taking the newborn from the man’s grip, and Dean smirked when he saw her blushing.

The man saluted him then. “Sir, thank you for your service and for looking out for my sister.”

“Sister?” Dean was confused.

“Yeah, sister. Come on, don’t tell me that you still don’t know that she’s not a man.” He joked and started to laugh while Dean looked at Bambi with wide eyes. Bambi laughed too, leaving Dean puzzled.

“That’s Jameson, Dean. They found him, dehydrated and weak. He’d been shot and the leg already started to stink.” 

Dean could feel his heart making somersaults.

“Like cheese that’s way over the date, sir.” Jameson added, and Dean frowned at the comment.

“James! Ew. We didn’t need the details.” Bambi laughed at her brother. “Anyway, they patched him up real nice, but he lost his leg. I’ve just been informed about it a couple of weeks after I got back.”

“Shit, Jameson. Nice to meet you.” He held out a hand for Jameson to take, but Jameson opted for a hug instead. “Oh, alright.” Dean chuckled and patted Jameson’s back. 

“Was that the big news you wanted to tell me in person?” Dean couldn’t help but remember the last letter she sent out to him.

“Yeah, that. But also, this.” She held out the newborn for Dean to take. He looked at the child with wide eyes. He didn’t know how he should hold such a damn small baby.

“I..uh..I shouldn’t. I’ve never…” Dean didn’t want to drop it, especially since he felt like he was having an extra clumsy day.

“Come on, it’s not that hard, Dean.” 

“Yeah, just put your arms like that.” Jameson showed him, folding his arms in front of his chest, and Dean mimicked Jameson. 

Before Dean could say anything more or tell Bambi that he wasn’t ready yet, she laid the newborn into his arms. He couldn’t help but looking at it and kinda try to hold onto it tight.

Dean marveled at the baby in his arms. He studied the baby’s face. He couldn’t unsee that it had faint freckles, and the tip of the baby’s nose was shaped like his. The baby yawned and blinked a couple of times before it drifted back to sleep.

“It’s a girl.” Bambi said. “Her name’s Hope.” She stood here, hugging herself as she watched Dean with the baby in his arms, a warm smile on her face. “Because I never stopped hoping that you’d be coming back. I never wanted to lose hope so that’s why I will always have Hope to remind me.” Jamie brushed away the tears that fell down her cheek. 

It dawned on Dean then, and he gasped. Suddenly his knees felt much weaker than before. He walked to the chair, shoving past Jameson. He was sorry, but he needed to sit the fuck down. 

Dean took a seat in the lazy chair, little Hope still tight in his grip, and his arms were cramping because he was afraid he’d drop her. Jamie came to sit on the arm of the chair. 

Dean needed a moment to rest, to clear his mind, and he wished he had his hands free to rub the bed of sweat off his face. 

“I-is she?” His voice came out a little strangled, a little shaky.

“Yours, Dean.”

Dean’s eyes started to tear up. His vision blurred and shit, he really wished he had a hand free to wipe it away before it would run down his cheeks.

Bambi’s fingers were there quick, though. Brushing the tears away as they about to drop down and Dean sniffed. 

“How?” It wasn’t that he didn’t believe her. It was really more like how? 

“I don’t know. Guess my body still worked, even though I haven’t had my period for years.”

“When?” Dean’s mind couldn’t form more than one word at the moment, but thankfully she understood him.

“She came early. May 13th.” 

“Shit.” 

Dean thought back. He was out already. If he would have gone back straight away, if they would have let him, he would have been there. “I’m sorry. I was out of the camp by then. I was having surgery in England on that day. I… shit, I should have just.. shit, Jamie I missed it. I’m sorry.”

He looked up into her eyes, and she was smiling down at him. “It’s ok.” Her hand squeezed his shoulder and Dean looked back to the little girl in his arm. _His_ little girl. 

“Would you like to stay?” She asked him.

He looked back up at her, his heart started to beat faster because those were the words he was hoping to hear for forever. “If you let me, I’d love to, yes.” 

 

*

 

After dinner, they sat comfortably on the couch which turned out to be Jameson’s bed, because he couldn’t take the narrow stairs up and down on his own. 

“Couch by day, my bed by night.” Jameson declared, and he was so proud of it when he showed them how the couch folds out to be a bed. 

Dean was still holding his little girl in his grip, she was sleeping so peacefully. He was afraid that if he let her go, she’d be screaming bloody murder. He remembered how he was holding Sam when Sam was still just a baby and every time he’d put Sam down, Sam would cry for him to take him back into Dean’s arm.

“Dean, you ok?” Bambi asked when she finished clearing the table, and it pulled Dean out from his thoughts.

“Huh?” He cleared his throat. “Yeah, no, fine.”

She smirked at him. “Just..uh.. you look a little stiff, there. You sure, you alright, Lieutenant?”

Dean looked from the baby up to Bambi who came to stand in front of him. “Yeah..uh.. I.. well, not going to lie. I’m sweating bullets here, and I think I have a cramp in my left arm. But I’m fine, alright. Everything’s fine.”

Jamie pulled a face before she laughed at him. “You know that you can relax, right? You’re not going to drop her.” 

“How do you know?” Dean ask snappishly.

Bambi dropped to her knees in front of him. “Because I trusted you with my life, and I trust you with hers. Relax, Dean, alright?” She put her hand on his thighs and rubbing against it. It strangely helped to calm him down.

“Alright you two lovebirds, I’m out. Don’t wait up.” Jameson called out. He secured a prosthetic leg around to his thighs and walked awkwardly to the door. 

“Wait, is she here already?” Bambi asked her brother, following him to the door. 

“Not yet but I’ll wait on the porch.”

“Take care alright, I’ll have your bed ready for when you’re home.” She kissed Jameson on his cheek before he walked out.

“Where is he going?” Dean asked when Jamie came back into the room.

“He has a date.”

“A date?” 

“Yeah, apparently the girls are swooning over him. I mean, he’s lovable, a war hero. They even come here to pick him up. Can you imagine?” 

Dean was laughing. “He’s getting around, huh?”

“Ugh..tell me about it, but it’s good. It makes him forget that sometimes, he doesn’t have a leg, you know. And of course it makes him forget the war and that we’ve lost all we had in there.”

“Yeah.” Dean knew what she meant.

“So,” Jamie clapped her hands together. “Do you maybe wanna take a shower and take the day off your skin? You’ve been traveling for so long and don’t forget the sweat of fear when you thought that Jameson was my new man.”

“I didn’t.” Dean gasped, and he tried not to blush.

“Of course you didn’t.” Bambi made a face and nodded at him with a grin. He wanted to shut her up, preferably with a kiss.

Dean shook his head. “I didn’t.” He protested. “Oh, shut up.”

Dean thought about it. He’d really been sweating bullets since he arrived by ship. He was so nervous and anxious the whole time, and it was all for nothing. “I’d love to..but.. uh..” 

“I can take her while you shower.” 

She was already there, taking Hope from his cramping arms and oh god, the relief was so good. 

“No, I just.. I would need help, with the cast and all. Or if you have a bathtub then I only need help in getting in and out.” Dean couldn’t lie. He felt a little embarrassed that he needed help to do the simplest of things. 

“Lieutenant, who would have thought that one day I’d have to help you wash yourself.” Jamie reached out a hand to help him up from the couch, and he stood on wobbly feet before he laced his arms around her waist for stability.

“Shut up.” He mumbled before kissing her.

 

*

 

Dean sat in a hot bath, and it did wonders to his aching bones. Jamie helped him in with stupid remarks, but little did she know that Dean missed it. He didn’t even know that he’d missed her wise assery, but there he was, smiling to himself. She went down to prepare Jameson’s bed while Hope was sleeping in her crib. 

She came in again after about ten minutes. “You still okay in there?” 

“I’m almost done and ready to be served.” 

“Yeah. Ha-ha. You’re still not funny, you know that?” 

“Shut up, Jameson liked my jokes.”

“That’s only because he’s scared of you.”

She came to kneel next to the tub before she leaned over to give him a kiss. Dean wanted to move but the leg with the cast was draped over the edge of the tub and if he moved, he would fall in and probably drown.

“How did you shower in England?” Bambi asked as she took the sponge that was swimming on the surface and began to rub along his arms. 

“Nurses.”

She chuckled. “You liked that, didn’t you?” 

“Not really. They were so annoyed with me, I could tell.”

“Why’s that? Did you asked them to clean your pipe while they bathed you?” 

“Fuck you.” He pouted at her, and she giggled at that.

 

*

 

After the hot bath, he settled into Jamie’s narrow bed, laying on his side waiting for Jamie to shower and nurse Hope in the next room. 

She came in, her bathrobe secured tight around her waist.

“She sleeping?” He asked groggily. It had been a long day. 

“Shhh, don’t jinx it.” She said and climbed into bed with him her hair was still damp. It smelled like grass and meadows. Dean could imagine smeling this for the rest of his life. He’d rather have that than camouflage cream and nicotine.

She rested her back against the headboard as she began to read through the letters. Dean was drifting in and out of sleep while Jamie sat there and read. He was a little embarrassed that she read it in front of him, but that’s just how she was. Every now and then she searched for his hand and squeezed it tight while he could hear her mumble something like _shit_ and _fuck_ the whole time paired with occasional _aww_ ’s and _ooh’_ s. 

“I’m so sorry.” She said to him, and he squinted his eyes open. 

“It’s alright. It wasn’t your fault.” 

“But still.” She had tears in her eyes, he could see it in the dim light of her night stand lamp. 

“Shhh. It’s alright. I’m here now.” He pulled her down, letting her curl up in his arms as his hand stroked over her damp hair.

“July 7th.” She said.

“Huh?”

“My birthday. July 7th.” She looked up at him. “When is yours?”

“January 24th.” 

“I’m sorry I wasn’t there to wish you a happy birthday.”

“It doesn’t matter.”

“Happy birthday,” She sat up a bit, smiling as she kissed him.

“Best birthday present ever.” He chuckled against the kiss. 

“I have something for you.” Jamie got up and out of bed and walked to her desk drawer. She fished out something and walked back to him. “Hold out your arm.”

Dean did what she asked of him and let her put something around his wrist. It was a leather bracelet with a medaillon haning from it. Dean had to look close to see what was engraved on it. It was a simple “J”.

“Just so that if you ever get lost you remember who to come home to.” She laid herself back down and Dean marveled at the bracelet. “To me, or Jameson, whoever triggers your fancy, Lieutenant.” Jamie shrugged and Dean laughed out loud before he put his arm back around her and kissed the top of her head.

“Thank you. Really best birthday present ever.”

She curled up perfectly against him, her head resting against the crook of his neck. _Her spot_. Dean could feel her breathing in the scent of his bare skin. It was too hot to wear a shirt. He missed that, sleeping in only his underwear. It had been almost 6 long years since he last did that.

“You smell good.” She said, breathing in and out and Dean chuckled at that comment. It was the first time they were together with no war between them.

His hand brushed the locks away from her face as he cups her cheek in his palm, pulling her in for a kiss. “I’m here like I promised I would be.”

She grinned into the kiss. “So, Benjamin, huh?” 

“Shut up.” Dean mumbled against her soft lips.

“I never heard from Sam. You know,” she began to speak, her voice gentle. “I began to worry when I didn’t hear back from you. I thought something terrible must have happened and then when months went by without a letter, I thought that you moved on. Maybe found someone else. Some other cute private from your platoon.” 

She made him chuckle a little.

“And then Tran wrote me, telling me that you, Harvelle and Barnes have been MIA. I never gave up hope. I always knew that you were still out there. Like I knew that Jameson was still alive. I never stopped loving you, or believing that one day you’d find your way back to me.”  

“I gave up on you.” He said, feeling a pang of guilt of what he wrote in his last letter.

“Only when you thought that you wouldn’t get out of there. I get that. No hard feelings.” She smirked, kissing him. 

“Oh, I’m feeling hard, alright.” Dean chuckled and then he rolled himself on top of her. His knees balanced his weight, and it was a little hard doing all this with a cast on his freaking shin, but he managed. He pressed his body down to her, careful not to crush her but enough to feel her close. 

“Lieutenant! You packing? In my house?” She looked at him, gasping, her eyes wide as she felt him hardening on top of her. Her hands were resting on his chest, her fingers grazing his nipple, making him hitch his breathing. 

“You like that, huh?” She had a cheeky grin on her lips before she pinched gently at his nipple again, making him moan out a little. 

“Shit.” He chuckled. “I’m a little sensitive there, yeah.” 

Dean moved lower, his deft fingers unknotting her bathrobe. He pulled it open and then he lowered himself, kissing a trail down her jaw, sucking at her throat until he sucked in her nipple. She still had the faint taste of milk around her areola, but her breasts felt soft. She’d been drained by Hope. 

Dean moved lower, and he felt her hand fisting in his short hair. He’d cut them in England to the lengths he had when they first met. He thought that it was a visual aid so that she would remember him. 

He went lower still, kissing a path down her stomach that was still well rounded from giving birth to his child. She was perfect.

Dean pulled down her underwear with his teeth and pulled it off her legs before he settled in between her luscious thighs. He looked up to see her watching him, propped on her elbows, her bottom lip between her teeth, her one hand stroking the top of his head. 

“Fuck, Bambi, been waiting forever.” He growled, hovering above her pussy, his nose brushing against the faint curls of her pubic hair. 

She gripped his scalp tighter. “Just be careful down there, alright. I’m still a little sensitive. Hope’s head was very big.” 

Dean chuckled, blowing hot air out against her wet pussy. “Wonder where she got that from.” 

He winked at her then before he took a swipe through the middle, parting her folds. The scent of her strong on his tongue, and he loved it. He drank from her like a starving man, exploring her hole with his tongue while she writhed and dug her nails into his scalp. 

“Shit.” She was breathless. Dean sucked at her nub, humming against her pussy, making her shake apart under him.

He looked up at her as she came down from her high, brushing the excess wetness around his mouth away with the back of his hand before he smiled at her proudly. 

“Come here.” She pulled him up by his hand and shoulder, locking her thighs around his waist. 

Dean stripped off his underwear before he crawled back up and positinoned himself above her, his dick leaving wet trails along her thighs.

His hard cock slipped right into her without much help, and Dean had to stall. The sensation was overwhelming.

“Shit, I won’t last.” He breathed out, hitting his forehead to hers, their nose bumping.

“Sir, I think you never do last with me.” 

“Fuck you very much. Ha-ha. No seriously, I haven’t had sex since the last time we saw each other and fuck, Bambi, it’s better than I could have imagined. Better than I ever knew. Being inside you, I mean.” He started to thrust his hips slowly.

She threw her head back in a fit of laughter, and Dean thought that it was the most wonderful sound he’d ever heard. 

“Also, It’s weird.” He said.

“What’s weird?”

“Doing it with you, you know. Horizontal and all. On a freaking bed…” 

“Sir? Shut up and fuck me.” Jamie said, pulling him down by the back of his neck.

Dean kissed her, his hips thrusting against her as he whispered “Yes ma’am” against her lips.

He moved his cock in and out, finding a rhythm despite having the cast. They soon found one,  and she couldn’t resist pinching and rubbing over his nipple, which in turn almost made Dean lose it.

“Bambi, fuck, I’m..” He was holding himself back. He’s going to fucking explode from sheer pressure. 

“Come in me.” She said and Dean’s eyes widened.

She giggled at that. “Dean, we already have a baby together. I’m still nursing. We’re good. And if there should be another baby, it’s not like it’s going to end us.” 

He knew that she was right, and fuck, he never thought of having a baby before, but he wanted for Hope to have a sibling. Maybe even have a lot of little Jamie’s running around the house. 

“Fuck,” She pulled him down to her, kissing him as he moved faster in and out of her tight and slick heat. “I love you.” He mumbled against her lips and his breathing hitched as he came with a heavy groan. 

He breathed hard, kissing her cheeks and mouth before he moved off her after some time, settling himself next to her. He pulled her close and held her in his arms. Dean ran his fingers along her naked back, as she curled up against him. 

“What now? Do you, I mean, do you want to move in?” 

“Would you want that?” Dean kissed her nose, his heart pounded hard, and he told himself that he should get back into shape soon. And on the inside, he hoped that she’d say yes.

“If you don’t mind that Jameson is staying here, too?” She painted figures on his chest, giggling as she brushed against his nipple and watch him flinch.

“Aww, he thinks I’m handsome and funny, he can stay.” 

“You are not funny.”

“What do you mean? I’m hilarious! Jameson laughed at all my jokes during dinner.”

She lifted her head to roll her eyes at him and Dean couldn’t help but chuckle at that.

“I still need to go back to Lawrence and sort out the house. I need to get my belongings and Sam’s.”

“Of course.”

“I’m going to see Trenton’s mom tomorrow. I promised her to come by, and I can’t tell her no. So if you leave, you come back, alright?”

“You still seeing Trenton’s mom?”

“Yeah. She only lives two hours away and Trenton was her only son. She knows about me. I mean, I told her. I couldn’t lie to her. She approves. She was a great help when I was pregnant before Jameson was here. She’s like the mom I never had. I’m taking Hope to see her for the first time.” 

“So, what do you say if I come with you? I mean, I’m not on a schedule and can go back to Lawrence later.” He kissed her forehead. “I wanna meet Trenton’s mom too.”

“She would be delighted. I told her about you, too.”

“Does she think that I’m handsome?” Dean couldn’t help but grin. 

“She thinks that you’re a dreamboat.” She giggled. “Wait, I don’t think you should come because then she’ll be all over you and who knows, you might stay with her?”

“Oh shut it, Bambi.” He said, pinching at her cheek. “Fucking love you, alright.” He kissed her again and shit, he really did love her.

He closed his eyes and she hummed a sweet melody while she stroked his face, making sure that he’s not an illusion. That Dean wasn’t a dream. 

Before Dean drifted off to sleep, he smiled to himself, because that was everything he wanted. It was something he dreamt about all those months. It was something he fought for, even in captivity. Something everyone told him that he deserved. Something Sam would have wanted for him.

 

*

 

Dean woke up with a start, drops of cold sweat beading on his forehead. 

_Shit, he’s late for sentry._

He looked around, his hand fumbled on the ground to find his helmet but instead of finding the metal of his helmet, Dean found the body of a sleeping Bambi next to him.

He chuckled to himself and let out a sigh of relief. He was in her home. She was his home. The war was over.

Dean slipped out of the bed. He needed to air his head, because there was no way he could go back to sleep. He put on a shirt and found his underwear on the floor. He tried to be quiet, as he limped to the door.

The house was quiet except for the snoring sounds of Jameson downstairs. 

He walked to the room next door to Jamie’s and went in. 

Hope was sleeping in her crib, and he just stood there, his hand gripping the crib to steady himself. His eyes fixed on the little bundle of joy. Dean was still mesmerized. He couldn’t believe that he created a little human. He smiled and watched her sleep. 

Maybe it was the gust of wind outside the window, maybe it was his loud breathing, but Hope woke up, her eyes opened and closed. She started to get uneasy.

“Hey, hey, hey… shhhhh,” Dean placed his hand on her little body, “I’m here sweetheart. You go back to sleep, alright?”

Hope was still going strong, and Dean knew that it would only be a matter of time until she would start crying louder. He took her out of her crib, carefully holding his hand the right angle to support her head and then he embraced her close to his chest. 

The nursery was not furnished except of the crib so he walked the couple of steps to the next wall and slid down. He sat there, Hope in his arms as he began to talk to her.

“Shhh.. I’m here.” He whispered again as he rocked her. “I wasn’t here before, but I’m here now.” He gently stroke her cheek and brushed against her lips with his finger. To his surprise, Hope began to suckle at his pinky and Dean couldn’t help but smile at that.

“It’s probably not as good as mommy’s breast, huh? But how about you and me, we both let her sleep a little?” 

“You know, Daddy’s been to war. I didn’t know about you. If I would have known, I would have fought harder. I would have come home sooner.” Dean exhaled. “But Daddy’s here now. Alright? I’m not going anywhere. I won’t let anything bad happen to you, I promise.”

“One day, I’ll tell you what you want to know.” He was fighting back tears. “Especially about your uncles who fought bravely. There’s your uncle Sam. He was my brother. Shit, Hope, he’s gone, and I miss him every day. Your mom also suffered losses. There’s uncle Jim and uncle Jack who didn’t make it. We’ll make sure that you know about them.” Dean blinked as a tear rolled down his cheek. “I’m sure that they’re watching over you from above, sweetheart.”

“Hey.” Jamie was standing in the doorway, her bathrobe secured around her body, and she smiled at Dean with teary eyes.

He blushed a little and wanted to ask her how long she’d been standing there, but he didn’t. “Hi.”

Bambi came to sit next to him and laid her head on his shoulder. “Nightmares?”

“Yeah.”

“I know. I’ve been having them too.”

Dean tilted his head a little, kissing her forehead. 

“I like the idea of telling Hope about her uncles.” She whispered. 

“We have to.”

Hope stopped suckling at Dean’s pinky and was about to start crying out. Jamie took her from him. “Feeding time.”

She unlaced her bathrobe and took out her left breast for Hope to take. Jamie made a face when Hope startle to suckle, and Dean frowned. “You okay babe?”

“Yeah, yeah. It’s just, she can suck pretty hard and it always almost making me dizzy at the beginning.

Dean experienced it on his pinky how hard Hope can suck, and he felt for Jamie.

She started to chuckle then and Dean looked at her. “What?” He asked.

“You called me babe.”

“I didn’t.”

“You did.”

“Well, you are a total babe, so.” Dean shrugged, his eyes trailing from her face down to her breast and Jamie changed breasts, docking Hope on to her other one. The nipple that was sucked on was all slick, big and raw. Dean shouldn’t be that turned on, he really shouldn’t.

She let out a soft chuckle again when she saw that he was trying to shift, concealing his slowly growing boner in his underwear. “Dean, does it turn you on seeing me nursing Hope?”

“How do you know?”

She laughed faintly, holding Hope up to burp. “I know you better than you know yourself.”

“Sometimes I’m scared that you do.” He said, kissing Hope, breathing in the scent of the small baby that made his heart full; and then he craned his neck to kiss Jamie, inhaling the scent of home.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> If some of you want it, I might write a little something following up to the story. Let me know xx


	17. Question

Dear all,

I was thinking about writing an Epilogue. Little time stamps maybe? Would anyone want to read that?

Maybe give me ideas what you want to read about? Could also be time stamps of Dean before het met Bambi? Or of a specifiy event of their lives together? 

Hit me up :) xx


	18. With All My Heart

Please if you want to read more, I have added an Epilogue called “With All My Heart..”


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